


If I could stop the rain from falling

by pixiedust22



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Trauma, rpf guilt, so angsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-06-13 16:31:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 37,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15368685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixiedust22/pseuds/pixiedust22
Summary: Alex was late.Someone being late to the Doctor Who tableread was a common enough occurrence that Steven threatened to quit at least once a week, but Alex was never late. It was unusual; so much so that Matt felt a niggling weight settle in his stomach that was not a result of the hangover he was nursing that morning.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Because of the mattex discord group. I was never going to write rpf because guilt!!!

Alex was late.

 

Someone being late to the Doctor Who tableread was a common enough occurrence that Steven threatened to quit at least once a week, but Alex was never late. It was unusual; so much so that Matt felt a niggling weight settle in his stomach that was not a result of the hangover he was nursing that morning. 

 

He leaned over to Karen, who was sitting next to him with a Starbucks cup the size of a bathtub with her head in her hands. “Do you know where Alex is?”

 

The redhead looked up at him, her eyes glazed over from lack of sleep. “Hungover, probably. Forgot to set an alarm? I wish I had.” She groaned and placed her head down on the table.

 

Matt sighed and looked over at Steven. The look on the older man’s face was enough to add to the anxiety currently rising in his chest. Steven didn’t look annoyed. He looked worried. For a man who frequently threw his arms into the air and declared he was quitting the business if he had to deal with any more  _ actors _ , this meant something. Something real.

 

Suddenly he felt someone poke his arm. He turned his head. Karen was peeking at him through a curtain of red hair that was spread across the table. “Stop it,” she mumbled.

 

“What?”

 

“Thinking. You’re thinking too much.”

 

Matt shrugged. “I was just wondering if I should call her.”

 

“Tried that,” Steven called out from across the table. “Six times. I’m just gonna send someone over there.”

 

“I’ll go,” Matt offered, a little too quickly.

 

Karen dropped her head with a thud onto the table. “Oh my God,” she muttered.

 

“Fine,” Steven replied after a moment’s thought. “Everyone go get a coffee or something. Doesn’t look like we’ll be starting for a while.” He stood up with a sigh and walked out of the room without taking his eyes off the scripts he was carrying.

 

Matt stood up as well, shoving Karen lightly on the shoulder. “Coming?”

 

She looked up at him. “What? Why me?”

 

He rolled his eyes. “Well this is  _ your  _ fault!”

 

It sort of was. The hangovers they were both sporting were the results of Karen  _ demanding  _ a night out complete with clubbing and endless shots to celebrate her birthday (which was one month ago). And Alex… well Alex didn’t really want to go at all. At first she’d blamed it on work the next day, but Karen had begged and begged with crocodile tears in her eyes. Eventually, she had made some self deprecating comments about being far too old for clubs and feeling ridiculous in a place like that where everyone was twenty years younger than her. The worst part was, he knew it wasn’t really an excuse. She’d meant it. So of course, despite at first having tried to get Karen to stop nagging, he’d instead had to try to prove her wrong. Which meant convincing her to come out with them. Which meant… the kiss.

 

The damn kiss.

 

At first, he’d only meant to try and prove she was still desirable. The insanity of having to prove such a thing was not lost on him of course, but the point was he harboured little hope that she’d ever be interested in him,  _ really. _

 

Funny how a few shots could change that so quickly.

 

They’d been dancing, laughing, flirting with just a little more zest than usual. With every shot he got just a little bolder, running his hands down her waist, pressing his chest up against her back, stroking her hair and pulling her out for every slow dance. And she hadn’t complained - at least not verbally, although he was notoriously awful at reading signals.

 

But then he’d kissed her.

 

This wasn’t just a chaste peck. He’d pushed her up against the wall and  _ ravished  _ her. At least that’s what Karen had told him afterwards, her eyes full of glee at the supposed “drama” she’d got to witness. He personally thought  _ ravish  _ was a pretty strong word, but it had definitely been a proper snog.

 

That really hadn’t been part of his plan, but his desire to make her feel attractive mingled with liquid courage and his desire for, well,  _ her,  _ proved a damning combination. But even then, she hadn’t been mad. She didn’t push him off, just let him finish (even joined in a little he’d like to think) and then looked at him with those eyes that were simultaneously incredibly amused and baffled. She’d laughed, that deep throaty laugh that sent the blood flowing right away from his brain (which, to be honest, explained a lot) and declared she definitely needed some sleep.

 

And then she’d left. But she had left with a smile on her face. Whether that was because of his amazing ability to make her feel better or just because she was laughing at him, he didn’t know. The main thing was she’d been smiling. And he’d actually thought that this outing of Karen’s had been a great idea. Until now.

 

In sober daylight, he was wondering whether the idea that had seemed so brilliant was, in fact, the worst idea he’d ever had. Making Alex feel better about herself by throwing himself at her like a horny dog? Had that smile been real - or plastered on as she tried to get out of there as quickly as possible?

 

And then she hadn’t turned up to work. Matt didn’t believe for a second that it was down to a hangover - he’d seen Alex turn up bright and early with the flu and a high fever after spending all night with her head down the loo because she “didn’t want to delay production!” But what if it was because of him? His display last night, less confidence enhancer, or more “guy who doesn’t know what boundaries are”? Oh God, what if she thought he’d forced himself on her? What if he  _ had?  _ And now seeing him seemed so bad she couldn’t even turn up to work?

 

“Smith!” An angry Scottish voice broke his train of thought - probably a good thing as that train was derailing and likely to crash. “Are we just gonna stand here or what?”

 

Oh right. They were at Alex’s door. He lifted a hand and hesitated. “Maybe it’s best if you do it.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “You mean after your little display last night?”

 

“I was just…” he looked down at his shoes, scuffing them against the floor. “Just trying to show that she’s not  _ past it  _ or whatever she thinks she is. It got a little out of hand.”

 

Karen snorted. “Yeah, right. Not like you haven’t had the hots for her like,  _ forever _ .” Before he could open his mouth to deny the undeniable, she lifted her fist and pounded loudly on the door. “Aleeeeeeex!” The screech cut through his hungover head and he cringed.

 

There was no sound from inside the flat.

 

Karen shrugged. “I have a spare key, I’ll go get it.”

 

Matt glared at her. “You  _ do? _ ”

 

“Don’t look so jealous, I’m not gonna steal her away from you.” She smirked and turned around, half-running towards her own flat.

 

Matt sighed, turning back towards Alex’s flat, which was still deathly silent. She was either pretending she wasn’t in, or she actually was in a deep, alcohol fuelled sleep. Why did Karen have a key though?

 

“So I can get her milk and stuff before she comes over.” He hadn’t realised he’d been thinking out loud. “Don’t overthink so much, stupid.” Placing the key in the lock, she opened the door and took a step inside. Matt debated whether to stay outside, but the anxiety bubbling in his chest compelled him to enter.

 

The flat was quiet and dark. He couldn’t help noticing Alex’s coat wasn’t hanging in its usual place. Perhaps she’d literally collapsed into bed. Maybe Karen was right. This thought made him feel a little better, but the anxiety was still there. Gnawing.

 

While he pondered the meaning of coats, Karen was already stomping through the flat, shouting Alex’s name. “Matt!” She suddenly called him and there was a sense of… “ _ panic _ ?” in her voice. 

 

He ran towards the bedroom where the voice had come from, expecting to see Alex hurt or passed out or he didn’t know what. Instead he found her looking at a perfectly made bed with the exception of a script carelessly tossed on top of it.

 

“Matt…” Karen looked up at him with fearful eyes, her voice quivering slightly. “I don’t think Alex came home last night.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments! I’m afraid this chapter isn’t really taking the plot anywhere but it will soon, I promise!

“I couldn’t face it,” she mumbled, her body curled in on herself, facing the floor. 

 

He frowned. “Alex… what’s going on? Everyone’s been worried sick about you.”

 

She sniffled slightly. “How could I go home? If you could do that in front of all those people… I had no idea what you might do if you got me alone.”

 

“No!” He protested, his heart beating wildly. “Alex, I would never,  _ ever  _ hurt you. I know I went overboard at the club but I would never…” he stopped, searching for words. “Please come back,” he attempted. “I won’t even go anywhere near you if you don’t want. But please, everyone’s so worried.” He pauses. “ _ I’m  _ worried.”

 

But she shook her head. “But Matt, you have to understand…” Her voice was suddenly calm as she looked up at him, her eyes staring holes right into his face. “I  _ can’t  _ come back.”

 

He felt the panic begin to rise in his chest again. “Why?” She didn’t answer. “Alex, why?!?”

 

She’d curled back into herself again and he reached out a hand, trying to pull her back out, back to him. But somehow he couldn’t reach, and there was a high pitched noise cutting through the silence, everything beginning to fade…

 

Matt woke with a gasp. His phone was blaring next to his ear and he took a deep breath, glancing at the screen. Steven. For a split second, he’d thought that maybe…

 

“Hello.” His voice was raspier than he’d thought. A quick glance at the clock confirmed he couldn’t have slept more than a couple of hours.

 

“I’ve called everyone.” Steven wasn’t bothering with pleasantries. “No one knows where she is. I called her parents, her sister, even her ex-husband.”

 

“No,” Matt protested. “Alex wouldn’t go anywhere without letting Salome know.”

 

“I know. So I’ve called the police. The circumstances are suspect enough for them to consider her a missing person at this point. She doesn’t fit the profile of a runaway, as well as the fact all her belongings are still in her flat.” His voice was flat, as if attempting - and failing - at being stoic.

 

“Not her coat.” 

 

There was a pause at the other end of the line. “What? What coat?”

 

“Uh…” Matt, still unsure of where he was going with this, stuttered. “No, it doesn’t matter, just her coat isn’t here.” 

 

“The coat she was wearing when she left the club?”

 

“Yeah. Yeah she was wearing it.”

 

“Right. So it’s likely she never came home. We figured that already but… I’ll let the police know anyway.”

 

“So…” Matt scratched his head. “What does this actually  _ mean _ ?”

 

“I told you.” Steven’s voice showed hints of irritation, but Matt suspected there was more to it. “She’s missing, but they don’t think she’s left voluntarily.”

 

He almost dropped the phone. “But that means…” Suddenly he couldn’t breathe.  _ Voluntarily _ . What he’d considered a nightmare only a minute ago suddenly seemed like a hope he could no longer cling to. If not voluntarily, then…

 

“The police will want to speak to you and everyone else who was there that night. Go down to the station later Matt.” The line went dead and Matt found himself staring at the phone, almost as if willing  _ this  _ to be the dream. It had to be. He scrambled over to his desk and opened his laptop.

 

_ Missing persons statistics,  _ he typed into the search engine. Most of it seemed irrelevant. Mental health, relationship breakdowns… It all related to people  _ voluntarily  _ missing. God, he hated that word right now.

 

_ Missing persons not voluntary,  _ he typed in next, scrolling through the results.

 

_ Murder.  _ He didn’t want to think about it.

 

_ Kidnapping.  _ No.

 

_ Accident away from home _ . He paused for a second. What if she’d been in an accident on the way back? She could be in hospital right now, alive and OK but unconscious and unable to let anyone know. Grabbing his keys, he made a dash for the door, deciding yesterday’s clothes, which he’d fallen asleep in at some point during the early hours of the morning, would do just fine for another day.

 

Police station. He had to tell them. This was it, obviously. She was in hospital and she’d be  _ fine.  _ He barged in through the door, looking frantically around him. There was a woman at the desk, typing away at a computer.

 

“Hi.” He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to calm his erratic breathing. “Matt Smith. The police wanted to talk to me. About um… an investigation?”

 

The woman tapped something into her computer. “Ah, yes. Please take a seat. Someone will come to see you.”

 

Right. Waiting hadn’t factored into his plans. He needed to do something  _ now.  _ “Um… are they very busy? It’s just I think I have an idea… about where she might be.”

 

The woman looked up. “I’ll let them know.”

 

Not even five minutes later, a man and a woman came out into reception. “Mr Smith,” the woman held out her hand. “I’m Louise Jones, this is my colleague, James Finn. Please follow us.”

 

Matt nodded and followed the two officers into a small interview room. They sat down and looked at him expectantly.

 

“We were told you have some information for us,” Louise motioned for him to sit.

 

“Right. I mean, well, not information really, more like an idea. I was just thinking that, well, I think we all agree that it’s very unlikely she would have just taken off without taking anything with her or telling her daughter. So surely the most likely reason she’s missing is, like, an accident or something? She might be in a hospital somewhere but can’t tell anyone so…”

 

“Mr Smith,” the male officer, James, who had an oddly booming voice that made Matt flinch, interrupted. “We have called all hospitals in the area and there are no recorded accidents in the area around the times of her disappearance.”

 

“Oh.” Matt suddenly felt incredibly stupid. How could he have thought this wouldn’t be the  _ first  _ thing they’d do? “I’m sorry. I just thought…”

 

Louise must have recognised how he felt as she smiled, patting his hand gently. “It’s all right. You wanted to help. But the best way you can do that is by trying to remember everything you can about that night. Do you think you can answer some questions?”

 

Matt nodded, swallowing. “Of course.”

 

James shuffled through some papers. “So you were with Ms Kingston as well as Ms Gillan and Mr Darvill at the Dirty Martini last night?”

 

Matt nodded.

 

“But you didn’t leave together?”

 

“No. Alex left… I think about midnight. The rest of us stayed another hour or so.”

 

“Why did she leave earlier? Was there an argument?” James squinted slightly at him and Matt suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

 

“No, she wanted to sleep.” He sighed. It was bound to come up sooner or later, especially if they asked Karen. “I had just, um, kissed her.”

 

Louise looked up. “Are you and Ms Kingston in a relationship?”

 

He shook his head. “No. No, um, I’d just had a bit too much to drink and, you know… anyway, I thought that might have been why she wanted to leave.”

 

“And you didn’t try to follow her?” James was suddenly regarding him in suspicion.

 

“No.”

 

“So you didn’t want to try to… you know, finish what you started?”

 

Matt recoiled in his seat, stunned by the implication. “No! I just, I only kissed her. I would never… look, Karen and Arthur can tell you, I didn’t follow her. The only reason I thought it might be relevant is that, when she disappeared, I thought she might have left  _ because  _ of it. If I made her uncomfortable.”

 

“It’s OK,” Louise tried to soothe him. “You’re not being accused of anything, we’re just trying to figure out a timeline of the night. Do you believe she might have left to avoid you?”

 

Matt shook his head. “She wouldn’t go away and not tell her daughter, no matter how uncomfortable she was. I wish she  _ had _ , but I can’t think of an explanation where that makes sense.” He looked up at them. “But if she didn’t leave by herself, and there was no accident…”

 

They didn’t say anything, but the answer hung in the air.  _ That leaves kidnapping or murder. _

 

“Do you know of anyone who might have a problem with Ms Kingston?”

 

Matt thought for a moment. “I mean… there are people who don’t like the character, who write angry letters. That happens to all of us, it’s just part of the business. But there’s nothing…  _ extreme  _ I can think of.”

 

“We’d like to see those letters, if possible.”

 

“I don’t think she keeps them. None of us do. If there was something worrying she might have told Steven though.” He was realising more and more that he had  _ nothing  _ of use to tell these people. He couldn’t think of a single reason why someone would want to hurt Alex.

 

“What about…  _ different  _ kinds of letters?” Louise paused, obviously trying to choose her words delicately. “Fans who are maybe a little  _ too  _ enthusiastic? A little too…  _ personal _ ?”

 

Matt looked up at her, shaking his head. “I don’t know. That happens sometimes too… letters from fans that are a bit weird. I think we all think of them as mostly harmless. But I don’t think she would have kept those either.”

 

“Right,” she nodded. “We will do a search of her flat, see if we can find anything. Thanks for your time, Mr Smith.

 

He stood up on shaky legs. If possible, this meeting had only made him feel worse. He wished he could go back to sleep, back to when he thought she’d left because  _ he  _ made her uncomfortable. The walk back to the flats passed in a daze and before he knew what he was doing, he was banging on Karen’s door. It took an eternity for her to open, and when she did, it was with a scowl on her face.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

“How are you  _ sleeping  _ right now? I’ve been down the police station answering questions about Alex.”

 

The redhead’s eyes widened and she suddenly looked wide awake. “She’s  _ still  _ not back? Holy shit Matt! She pulled him into her flat and all but shoved him onto the sofa. “It’s been  _ ages! _ ”

 

This was when he broke down. Suddenly his whole body started shaking and he buried his face in his hands, finding it wet with tears. A hand appeared on his back, rubbing soothing circles.

 

“Shit,” she repeated. “I really thought she’d just, I don’t know, checked into a hotel overnight.”

 

He shook his head, drawing in a deep breath. “They think…  _ Shit.  _ They think there’s more to it. That she didn’t go away on her own accord.”

 

Karen stiffened. “What does that even mean?”

 

“I don’t  _ fucking  _ know! Someone could have hurt her. God, this is all my fault!”

 

“What? Matt, how is it your fault?”

 

“Cause I was being a fucking perv and snogging her like that in front of everyone, so she left alone and if we’d all gone together, this would never have happened!”

 

“Matt,” she sighed and sat down. “You can’t think like that. And honestly, I think she kind of  _ liked  _ you kissing her. But that’s not the point. You may as well say that if I hadn’t made her come out with us she wouldn’t have gone missing, or if the club wasn’t there, or if doctor who didn’t exist. It doesn’t help.”

 

“They called the hospitals.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“They called all the hospitals, she’s not there. There were no accidents. Someone  _ took  _ her, Kaz.”

 

“We don’t know that. There could be an explanation,” she attempted.

 

“Like  _ what?” _

 

_ “ _ Well,  _ I  _ don’t know!” She stood up and started to pace the room. “Did she say anything to you? About anything… weird? Unusual?”

 

“I’ve been through all of this with the police Kaz,  _ no,  _ okay?” His voice came out a lot louder than he’d intended and she visibly flinched. 

 

“Shit, Matt. I know this is harder for you than the rest of us but…”

 

“Why would it be harder for me?”

 

She rolled her eyes. “Maybe it has something to do with your tongue down her throat?”

 

“That was just…”

 

“To make her feel good about herself, yeah, yeah. The point is…”

 

“The point is she could be  _ dead _ right now. So I think whether I want to fuck her or not is kind of a moot point!” He hadn’t intended to say those words out loud. Any of them. But now they were out there, they couldn’t be taken back. The words he couldn’t even think until now, let alone speak.  _ Alex could be dead. _

 

_ “Shit. _ ” There were tears in Karen’s eyes as she picked up her phone.

 

“Kaz, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

 

“It’s ok. It’s ok, you’re right. I’m just… I’m gonna call Arthur. I think we need Arthur.”

 

He leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes. He couldn’t help feeling like he should be out there, doing  _ something.  _ But there was nothing,  _ nothing  _ he could do. And he thought, at this moment, nothing was the hardest thing he’d ever done.


	3. Chapter 3

Three days. It had been nearly three full days since Alex’s disappearance and still nothing. There had been a flurry of activity at first, with police turning up to search her flat, asking everyone questions; Matt himself had been called for interviews three times - but now, nothing. It felt as if a stormy sea had suddenly calmed with not a ripple on the surface and he wanted the waves back. He knew that statistically, most missing persons were found in the first couple of days, and the longer she remained missing, the worse the odds got. They  _ were  _ still searching for her, sure, but how long until they decided the chances were so low it was no longer worth the effort?

 

Filming had pretty much completely ground to a halt. There were scenes they could have done without Alex, but no one had actually started rewriting the schedule yet. He supposed that, even for Steven, that might have been admitting defeat in some way. Still, it left him with absolutely no distraction from his thoughts. He tried spending time with Karen and Arthur, but they weren’t their normal chatty selves - for obvious reasons. Most of the time they ended up sitting in one of their flats, quietly stuck in their own minds. Today, he’d been avoiding anybody, unable to stand seeing his own feelings of hopelessness mirrored in another’s face. Instead, his mind, masochistically, kept wandering back to that night.

 

_ He pulled her onto the dance floor for probably the seventh or eighth time, his hands becoming more daring as he grabbed her by the hips and started to sway with the music. Resting his forehead against hers, he grinned as he moved his hands slowly from her hips, back to her waist, and down again. Where this brazen confidence was coming from he did not know, but suspected it was something to do with the way she’d spoken about herself earlier, not to mention that he’d lost count of the numbers of shots he’d had at this point. But God, she was gorgeous. Her curls, which had started the night tamer and tidier than usual, were now having their own private riot around her face. She refused to wear heels - as usual - which meant their height difference led her to peer up at him through heavy lashes and her lips, wet and pink from the cocktail she’d been sipping, were begging to be kissed. _

 

_ He didn’t know how much longer he could resist. If he glanced down ever so slightly he could look right down her cleavage, her fabulous breasts rising and falling with every hurried breath. If he just bent down, he could lick the tops of them, slide his hands into her dress and cup one easily in his hand. Would she slap him, he wondered, or had this night taken such a turn for the bizarre that she might even let him? _

 

_ His hand on her hip, so close to the hem of her dress, could so easily just slide down slightly to feel her inner thigh. Slide up from there and… well, if he continued on this line of thought he was going to have a problem. Although, as he realised, he was already having that problem, and if the amused twinkle in Alex’s eye was to be believed, she’d realised it too. That was when he snapped. _

 

_ Screw it, he thought as he grabbed her shoulders and pressed her up against the nearest wall. He saw a flash of surprise cross her face before he was too close to see anything and his mouth met hers. She tasted like pineapples, alcohol and something else he couldn’t just place but instinctively knew was just her. He ground his hips against her, running his hands through her wild curls, thinking if she killed him for this, at least he’d die a happy man. _

 

_ And then he felt it. Her tongue darted out to meet his lips, and he wasted no time deepening the kiss, as if trying to explore every inch of her which, given this was probably the only chance he’d ever got, was exactly what he was doing. _

 

_ His hands got bolder, sliding from her hair, one to steady her shoulder and the other to cup her right breast, which sent even more blood instantly south and he could swear he heard a moan leave her mouth. _

 

_ When her lips finally slipped from his, he knew everyone had to be staring, but he didn’t even care. Her eyes looked up at him, confused and amused at the same time, a grin forming on her face. She laughed. He laughed. And then she extricated herself from his arms and it was all over. _

 

_ As he watched her leave, her legs were twitching to follow her, to finish what he’d started, if there was even the slightest chance… _

 

Now he really wished he’d gone. A devastating rejection would have been a small price to pay if it meant she’d have come home safe. Matt sighed. Now in addition to everything else, he was hard. Given the circumstances, getting himself off to thoughts of Alex felt more than a little distasteful. Trying to distract himself, he looked at his phone. A text from Karen: “ _ any news????”  _ Three missed calls from his mum. He sighed and pressed the callback button.

 

“Matthew!” Her voice was loud, upset, yet the most soothing thing he’d heard in days. “What is going on? The papers are saying Alex Kingston went missing! Do you know anything about it? Is it true? Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

He opened his mouth to tell her that yes, it was true, and no, he hadn’t told her because he didn’t think of it landing up in the papers and because it’s not like she knew just how  _ much  _ Alex meant to him, but all that came out were big, ugly sobs of despair that surprised even him.

 

“Matt?” Her voice was bewildered. 

 

He tried to answer but found once the floodgates had opened, he couldn’t stop them. Her silent presence on the phone sent him back in time, made him feel like the little boy sobbing on her lap, her arms folding him into their embrace. Like he was finally letting go of the tension he’d kept bundled up inside him for days and it felt  _ good. _

 

“Matt?” she asked again once he’d finally stopped, every tear wrung out of him. “Are you ok?”

 

He took a deep breath. “I… yes, it’s true. She went missing. I don’t know what to do mum, I…”

 

“Oh Matt, I’m sorry.” Her voice was sympathetic but confused. Of course she would be. He’d never spoken to his mum about Alex as anything other than a co-worker. He’d barely even admitted to himself how he felt about her, how was he meant to voice it to anybody else? “What happened?”

 

He took a deep, shuddery breath. Ok, maybe not completely out of tears. “We were in a club. All of us, I mean. Karen wanted to go. And we…” he decided he’d better leave out some of the more… exciting… parts of the night. “Alex left before the rest of us. And she never came home.”

 

“So what happened? The papers are saying kidnapping, but it sounds like speculation.”

 

“That’s the thing, no one really knows. The police don’t think she went off voluntarily, it doesn’t make any sense. So I guess that’s what the papers are going off. But we don’t know what actually happened.”

 

“Oh, Matt,” his mum sighed. “This is why I never… I mean, a woman walking alone at night. It’s just a bad idea, there’s so many people out there who…”

 

“Mum, please!” He screwed his eyes shut. “I’ve been through all the scenarios in my head already. I really don’t need anymore inspiration.”

 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realise you were so close.”

 

“It’s… yeah. I feel… pretty strongly about her.” The thoughts he’d never voiced bubbled up to the surface. The feelings he’d kept under wraps - which by his standards meant very little since pretty much everyone who worked on set had some idea of them. “I mean  _ feelings _ .”

 

“Oh.” His mum was silent for a moment. Then: “ _ Oh! _ ”

 

“Not that it matters now. I mean, it’s hardly the most important thing. And she would never feel the same anyway. I don’t care, as long as she comes back it doesn’t matter. I just want her to come back.”

 

“ _ Matt. _ ” He could hear from the tone of her voice that she wanted to do the mum-thing, wrap her arms around him and cuddle all the pain away. He wished so badly that it could ever work.

 

“She could be dead.” His voice was small as if speaking it too loudly might make it true. “Or hurt somewhere with no one to help her. Or…”

 

“This isn’t helping you,” she soothed. “There’s no point thinking  _ what if _ ?”

 

“What else can I do?”

 

“Well,” she hesitated. “You’ve got to stay strong honey. You’ve got to stay optimistic. Because  _ when  _ she does come back, she’s going to need you, ok? She’s going to need friends. Whatever has happened. And you’re my brilliant, strong boy and you’re going to be that friend, that  _ rock _ . OK?”

 

He nodded, which was silly as he was on the phone. “You’re right. You’re right, of course. Thanks… thanks mum.”

 

He could almost hear her smile over the phone. “Thanks, and…” she sounded a little anxious. “You’ll keep me updated, won’t you? I really want to know when things like these are going on… things that affect you so much.”

 

“I will. I promise. I love you mum.”

 

“Love you too honey.”

 

Another couple of days passed, and they even made an attempt at filming some scenes, which were, in Steven’s words, “unusable”. The more time passed, the more agitated everyone seemed to become, as if watching a clock ticking down to the point where the likelihood of finding her was next to nothing. They had called it for the day and he was just about to leave when he heard a voice behind him.

 

“Matt!” Arthur came jogging up to him. “Steven just said the police are here. They want to talk to us.”

 

He couldn’t help the jolt of hope that hit him straight in the chest. Walking towards the meeting room, he tried to calm himself down. If they’d found her, they would have just said so. Still, at least something was happening instead of this constant radio silence. He walked in to see Karen, Steven and a few of the producers and writers already sitting around the table. Louise and James were there with a thick stack of paper in front of them.

 

“Thanks for giving us some more of your time,” Louise started, as if this was some huge imposition on  _ them.  _ “There’s been some new information that could be helpful in the case, which does mean we are going to have to ask you all some more questions.”

 

His heart was beating audibly. Could they  _ actually  _ be getting somewhere? 

 

“We’ve has a call in response to one of the newspaper articles. A fan of Ms Kingston apparently read it and let us know about this message board online, some kind of fanclub I believe.” James shook his head, clearly not impressed. “Anyway, apparently there was one user who always seemed very…  _ over the top  _ to use her words. We have been over his posts and her concerns do seem… valid. Apparently she didn’t think much of it until she saw the article. This user is extremely active on the message board, but completely stopped posting five days ago, around the same time Ms Kingston disappeared.”

 

Matt felt himself getting dizzy. What did they mean by  _ over the top _ ? His eyes fell on the stack of papers Louise was currently holding.

 

“We have some of the posts he has made. We’d like you to read through them, see if there’s anything you recognise, references, writing style, perhaps from a fan letter you’ve received yourself or something else you’ve read. Anything we can use to identify him.”

 

“Can’t you just track him through the computer?” Karen asked.

 

“We can,” Louise explained, “and we are, but  _ if _ , and I want to stress this is a big  _ if _ , he did take her it’s likely he will not still be in the same place. It will help immensely with leads of course, but as I’m sure you understand, time is of the essence here and anything we can get is important.” She sighed. “Look, I don’t want to mislead anyone here. It is extremely likely this person is just an overzealous, harmless fan. But it’s a lead we’ve got to follow up on, so…” she shrugged, beginning to split her pile of papers into smaller bundles.

 

Matt took his bundle with shaking hands, almost not wanting to look for fear of what he might find. Unable to wait until he got back to his flat, he sat down on a sofa outside the meeting room and started flicking through. Karen slumped down next to him, clutching her bundle nervously. “Can we read it together?” She asked, her eyes flicking anxiously to meet his.

 

He nodded. “Ok let’s take it from the start.” It was obvious this was just a small selection of what this guy had been posting, starting only a week before the disappearance. Yet there was a  _ lot  _ to go through. Matt avoided any fan forums on principle, not really wanting to know what people were saying about it. He imagined that this sort of post wasn’t exactly unusual, talking very candidly about Alex’s appearance and what he’d like to do with her. The odd thing was, though, that other posters seemed to ignore him and yet he continued, relentlessly with several explicit posts a day, as if entirely unaware no one wanted to read it. It made him feel very uncomfortable given the circumstances, but the posts themselves were likely no anomaly among fans - the frequency perhaps might be.

 

“Matt…” Karen nudged him. “Look at this.”

 

He glanced over, noting she was several pages ahead of him. Looking at the post she pointed at made his head start to spin. “It’s…”

 

“I know.”

 

The post was talking about how the poster was going to meet Alex and she would fall in love with him.  _ When Alex and I are together… _

 

“I see why they think this is suspicious.  _ When  _ we’re together.” He shuddered.

 

“And look,” Karen pointed. “The posts stop here. This is the day she disappeared.”

 

“It doesn’t say anything different though. Just more ramblings.”

 

“Yeah but…” she hesitated. “He might not be posting now because… you know, he’s…” she trailed off, but Matt understood her meaning quite clearly.

 

“There’s nothing here though,” he rifled through the papers again. “Nothing I recognise.”

 

Karen chewed on her bottom lip. “Maybe Steven will. He always says if we get fan letters that are concerning we should show him. Maybe Alex got one?”

 

“Maybe.” But he had a feeling that whoever this was, he wasn’t going to be sending letters. “I’m gonna go back to my flat I think. Look over this a bit more, see if I can think of anything.”

 

“OK. Matt…”

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“You know… it may not be this guy, you know? Fans do talk like this, it’s just fantasies. I just don’t want you to…” she stopped.

 

“To what?”

 

“I don’t know. Get your hopes up? Or the opposite? I genuinely don’t know how to feel about... _ this.” _

 

He knew what she meant. On one hand, it was a lead, which could mean they’d find her. On the other hand… if it was true, she’d already been with this guy for five days. What if he’d…  _ killed  _ her? Some sort of murder-suicide; Matt couldn’t help thinking of the worst scenarios he could imagine. “I know,” he sighed. “But if there’s  _ any _ chance…” he sighed and clutched the papers tighter in his hand, leaving Karen behind, unwilling to complete his thought.

 

Matt didn’t get any sleep that night. After reading through the papers several times and concluding that he definitely knew nothing about this person, he found the forum and spent several hours reading his previous posts. Of course he knew the police would have done this, would have looked for any information they could glean, but there was always a possibility they’d missed something, and he couldn’t sleep anyway, knowing they would be looking for her at that very moment.

 

Which was probably why, when his phone rang at 6am, he was almost too spaced out to even hear it.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Matt.” It was Steven’s voice at the end of the phone. “They’ve found her.”

 


	4. When they cry silently it’s cause they just can’t stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She looked pale and hollow, like she hadn’t slept for days. Her right arm was in a cast up to the elbow and arranged in a sling around her neck. On her other arm he could see angry red marks in a circle around her wrist - ropes? - and there was a faded, yellow bruise on the side of her jaw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible triggering content - nothing explicit but be aware.

_ They’ve found her. _

 

Matt had to grasp the back of the chair to steady himself. “I… what… I mean, how? Is she OK? Where is she? Was it... _ him? _ ”

 

“I don’t know that much, Matt, only that the police found her in the early hours of the morning; I believe a man has been arrested so I guess it  _ was  _ him. I’m not sure if Alex is hurt or not, but they have taken her to the hospital.”

 

“The hospital…” The thoughts were racing around Matt’s head so fast he struggled to even form a complete sentence. “Right, the hospital. I’m going over there.”

 

“Matt, maybe…”

 

“I’ve got to. I’ve got to see her.”

 

“I know, but…” Stephen sighed. “They mentioned she won’t speak. At all.”

 

Matt frowned as he tried to put his shoes on with one hand. “What do you mean  _ she won’t? _ Do you mean  _ can’t?  _ Is she unconscious?”

 

“No, they said  _ won’t _ . Matt, she’s been gone nearly a week, we have no idea what kind of hell she’s been through. It’s just… don’t expect too much, OK? She might not want to see anyone.”

 

“Fine.” Matt grabbed his jacket and slammed the door shut behind him, his heart pounding with dread. “I get it. But I’ve got to try.”

 

“No, I…” Matt could hear the uncertainty even in  _ Steven’s  _ voice. “I just wanted to warn you.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“You’ll let me know, won’t you? How she is.”

 

“Of course. I’ll call you later.” Matt hung up the phone as he reached his car. He probably wasn’t really in a fit state to drive, but the hospital was at least half an hour’s walk away and he needed to get there  _ now _ . He took a few deep breaths to calm down before starting the engine, wanting to put his foot down completely but holding off, reasoning that he wouldn’t get to Alex any faster if he had an accident and had to go into hospital himself.

 

Throwing all the cash he had into the parking meter -  _ who can predict how long they’re going to be at the hospital anyway? _ \- he ran into the building.

 

*

 

“I’m sorry, are you family?” The receptionist’s stony face was completely untouched by his pleas to see Alex, and Matt’s heart fell. 

 

“No, I… I’m a friend.”

 

“Right, OK. I will contact a doctor to come and speak to you, then they will take you to see her if they feel it’s appropriate. We can’t just let anyone come waltz into patients’ rooms. You could be paparazzi for all I know.”

 

“I’m not… I work with her! I play the Doctor?” Matt protested. The receptionist’s face remained blank. Clearly not a fan then. “Right. Right, OK. Um, how long will they take?” She shrugged. “Right, I’ll just…” Defeated, he walked towards the seating area. 

 

Just as he was about to sit down, a young dark-haired woman in a nurse’s uniform came up to him. “Hi, you’re Matt Smith, right? Don’t worry about Mandy over there, she’s a bit mad for the rules but I know who you are, it’s fine.”

 

He blinked. “Um, sorry?”

 

“I’m Kate, I’ve been looking after Ms Kingston? If you follow me, I’ll take you to see her now.”

 

Well, he wasn’t about to turn  _ that  _ down. “Thank you so much.”

 

She bit her lip as they walked towards the lift. “I mean, to be honest, I think a familiar face might really help.”

 

He felt the anxiety creeping into his chest again. “How… how is she?”

 

Kate shook her head. “She won’t say a word. We’ve been trying to coax her out of it, but nothing so far.”

 

“What…” he swallowed, “what’s actually…  _ happened  _ to her?”

 

She gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, but any information like that is confidential.”

 

He nodded, having expected as much. Not being family, he was probably lucky to even get a chance to see her. They walked past the intensive care unit, and when Kate passed the door without going through he breathed a sigh of relief. Instead, they entered one of the wards, a long corridors with door after door housing patients, some of them open with TVs blaring or visitors chatting. The one she led him to was closed, and no sound came from within.

 

Kate knocked on the door gently before opening it. “Alex? You’ve got a visitor, honey.” She gave him an affirming nod and, hesitantly, he entered the room.

 

The first thing he thought was that it  _ was  _ her. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’d worried the police could have made a mistake,  _ thought  _ they’d rescued her when it was actually somebody else. But no, no one could possibly mistake those curls. Her face slightly turned from him, she was staring at the wall, entirely unresponsive to his entrance. She looked pale and  _ hollow _ , like she hadn’t slept for days. Her right arm was in a cast up to the elbow and arranged in a sling around her neck. On her other arm he could see angry red marks in a circle around her wrist -  _ ropes?  _ \- and there was a faded, yellow bruise on the side of her jaw. 

 

It could have been a  _ lot  _ worse.

 

“Alex?” He took a tentative step towards her. There was no response, and although they’d  _ told  _ him, his heart sank. Some part of him had hoped it might be because the police and doctors were strangers; that she might speak to someone she knew. But she didn’t even acknowledge him, her gaze still resting on a fixed point on the wall. He stretched a hand out uncertainly and gently brushed his fingers against her arm.

 

The result was instantaneous. With a sharp intake of breath, she recoiled as though his hand had burnt her skin. Curled up on the bed, shaking, as far away from him as she could get, he could hear her fighting to get her breathing back under control.

 

“Sorry,” Kate whispered behind him. “I should have said. We had to sedate her just to be able to treat her injuries.” She sighed and gave him a sympathetic glance. “Look, sometimes it’s like this at first, like… the shock, but they come out of it. It gets better.”

 

He turned around and fixed her with his gaze. “Who’s  _ they _ ?”

 

“You know,” she squirmed slightly, “just people who have been through… things. Traumatic things.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry but I can’t…”

 

“I know,” he nodded. “Can I… am I allowed to be alone with her?”

 

Kate nodded. “Of course. Just use that button to ring for a nurse if you need to, and let me know when you leave.” Raising her voice slightly: “Alex, sweetheart, Matt’s gonna stay with you for a bit, OK?” Obviously not expecting an answer she smiled and closed the door.

 

Taking a deep breath, Matt turned around again, pulled a chair to what he deemed a safe distance from the bed, and sat down. Alex hadn’t moved and he couldn’t see her face anymore, although her breathing seemed to have slowed down somewhat. “Alex, what did he do to you?” He whispered, feeling tears beginning to form in his eyes at the sight before him. Of course he knew. It was obvious just from reading the guy’s posts what he’d intended, but he had  _ hoped  _ perhaps it was all talk, that once he actually got his hands on her, he wouldn’t really do anything. Seeing Alex’s reaction confirmed it for him though; this man, this  _ monster  _ had definitely followed through. He closed his eyes, trying to take deep breaths to quash the rage that was building up inside him. It wouldn’t help anybody right now. “Everyone’s been really worried about you,” he tried. Although there was no response, he didn’t see the harm in speaking to her. “We haven’t even filmed anything. I mean, we tried, but it was rubbish. I know they say the show must go on, but I guess it can’t without you.”

 

She still didn’t move, but at least she was breathing normally now. He hoped she was listening to what he was saying, that somehow it was maybe a little bit helpful.

 

“I think even Steven couldn’t concentrate on trying to rearrange the schedule so we could film. Can you imagine that? Steven, not able to work. Don’t think I’ve ever seen that before. Even the time when he had that huge argument with his wife and she kicked him out for a week, you’d never have known.” He fell silent for a moment. “God, I… I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry, Alex. I… can’t imagine how you must feel right now. He’s gone now, and he can’t hurt you anymore but… you know that, and it doesn’t make you feel any better, does it?” He bit his lip, silently wondering if he should stop talking, if he was actually just making things worse. “I’m gonna… shut up now. But I’m here. Just so you know.”

 

Sitting there in silence wasn’t much better. The thoughts were spinning in his head. What should he do? What  _ could  _ he do? Would it be better to just leave her alone seeing as she clearly didn’t want any kind of contact? That thought made him feel almost queasy though, how could he  _ leave _ ?

 

She seemed to have calmed down at least; her shaking had stopped and she looked more simply curled up than cowering. He couldn’t help wondering what she was thinking. It wasn’t as though she was delusional and thought Matt was  _ him _ ; she would have done more than just pull away were that the case. No, he was fairly certain she was perfectly aware. The panic was probably instinctual, he reasoned, an instant reaction to touch. But completely ignoring him - that was harder to understand. Resisting the urge to pull out his phone to scour the internet for answers -  _ what would I even search for?  _ \- he tried to convince himself patience was the best approach.  _ Like a wounded bird, let her come to you. _

 

It was a shame he’d always been  _ terrible  _ at patience, and Alex showed no signs of moving. In fact, he thought  _ he  _ was starting to panic. Despite his clumsy, sometimes childish appearance, he’d always been great in a crisis. His boundless energy came into use, managing whatever needed fixing when others were overwhelmed, but  _ this?  _ He couldn’t  _ do  _ anything, he couldn’t  _ fix  _ it.

 

It drove him mad.

 

Lost for something to do, he walked around the bed to sit on the other side, where he could at least  _ see  _ her. She was curled up on her side, staring down at the floor now. It struck him as strange how very still she was holding all the time, even now, with her injured arm cradled by her chest in a very awkward position. Biting his lip, he tried to think, which wasn’t easy given the amount of different emotions swirling through his body; fear, despair,  _ fury… _

 

With all those emotions, how was he supposed to think?  _ Hang on a minute _ …

 

“I remember something that happened when the doctor told me I wouldn’t be able to play football again. It’s happened other times I think, but this one memory’s really clear. I remember thinking…” his eyes flickered across the room, landing eventually on her uncomfortable-looking arm. “I was so upset, as you can imagine. It was my dream. Before you start thinking I’m trying to compare the situations, I’m really not,” he hurried to add, realising this story might not sound as if it was going where he wanted it to go. “But I remember feeling like if I opened my mouth to say  _ a single word  _ I would start crying and wouldn’t be able to stop. I think everyone’s been sad like that at some point, you know? You’re just teetering on the edge of bursting into tears. I’m wondering… if that’s what’s going on with you right now. Maybe not tears though; I think crying you could deal with. Panic attacks though?” 

 

He almost jumped when her eyes actually darted up to meet his, only for a split second before she lowered her gaze again. Well, it was something. “Feeling like you’re constantly  _ so  _ close to complete, blinding panic that even a single word or movement could set it off? I imagine that would keep you pretty much frozen in fear at all times. Am I close?”

 

He could see her gaze flickering and suddenly, her eyes were full of tears and her shoulders began to shake.  _ Shit.  _ He couldn’t work out whether this was a good thing or not. Perhaps he’d figured it out but did that actually  _ help _ ? As soon as she started crying, his whole body wanted to jump up, to go over and comfort her, hold her, but he had to repress that urge and what could he do instead? “It’s ok,” he tried. “Crying is good.” At least he thought it was, but her sobbing was turning into screams as she flew up into a sitting position, her uninjured hand pulling at her hair, struggling to draw in breath as she began to hyperventilate. 

 

“Shit,” he stood up, looking helplessly around him. He had  _ known  _ people with panic attacks but he’d never actually needed to deal with one and wasn’t sure  _ how  _ to. When she started to pull at the sling as if it was a restraint she had to get out of, he decided to press the button Kate had pointed out. Or rather, bash it. Repeatedly.

 

She was there in less than a minute, but by this time, Alex had already managed to remove her sling and was trying to get out of bed. In a different situation he might have enjoyed the glimpse of her backside in one of those ridiculous hospital gowns, but all he could feel was helplessness and  _ terror _ .

 

“Ok, ok, Alex, sweetheart, it’s ok.” Kate’s voice was soothing and perfectly calm. “No one’s going to hurt you, but we don’t want you to hurt yourself either, do you understand?

 

He didn’t think she did, and when Kate’s hands gently grabbed her shoulders to try to manoeuvre her back into bed, she screamed.

 

“All right, honey, we’re gonna give you something to calm you down a bit, ok?” She pressed a button on the wall. “Can I get a 2.5 mg lorazepam injection in room 36 please?”

 

He watched on, helplessly as Alex struggled against the nurse’s attempt at calming her down until  _ finally _ , a woman in doctor’s scrubs entered the room. Kate nodded towards Alex and the other woman nodded, preparing her needle and, against protests, injected its contents into Alex’s arm, watching for a few moments to observe the effects. “She’ll need to be monitored,” she said and Kate nodded.

 

“Yes, of course. Thank you.”

 

As the doctor left the room, Matt’s gaze fell back on Alex. She had slumped back onto the bed, her eyes partially closed, breathing slowly. She barely flinched when Kate gently rearranged her sling. “Is she gonna be ok? What… what happened?”

 

“She had a panic attack,” the nurse explained without taking her eyes off her patient. “She’s not equipped to handle them right now, and there is a concern she might - inadvertently - hurt herself.” Looking up at Matt, she added: “it’s a pretty high dose, she’ll probably fall asleep soon.”

 

“Ok, I get you… I’m gonna go, just… in a minute.”

 

Kate nodded as he sat down, watching Alex’s eyelids drop lower and lower until her breathing became slow and deep and he was satisfied she was asleep. Even so, he couldn’t help watching her for another 20 minutes before pulling himself away, tears in his eyes as he left the hospital. He held back until he got into his car where he finally let go and broke into desperate sobs.

 

*

 

Once he finally got back to the flats, he bumped into Karen and Arthur who immediately jumped him and he did  _ not  _ have the energy. Still, their pleading faces reminded him he wasn’t the only one worried sick and he relented, inviting them back to his flat.

 

“I don’t really know,” he sighed as he collapsed onto the sofa. Karen sat down next to him while Arthur went into the small kitchenette to make some tea. It was funny; that’s exactly what Alex always did in a crisis. So typically British.

 

“What do you mean?” Karen frowned at him. “How do you not know how she is?”

 

“Because she doesn’t talk.” Matt pursed his lips and dragged his fingers through his hair.  _ Ew, greasy _ . “I mean, physically she has a broken arm, I think, that’s about it. But she didn’t speak to me. And she’s panicking,  _ all  _ the time. They had to sedate her so she wouldn’t hurt herself.” He accepted some tea from Arthur who sat down on the chair opposite him, cradling his mug like it was the answer to all the world’s problems.

 

“What do you think he did to her?” Karen asked quietly.

 

Matt looked down, his eyes fixed on the liquid in his mug, refusing to look at them. He wouldn’t say it;  _ couldn’t  _ say it. “What he wrote about doing,” he replied finally.

 

When he looked up, Karen’s face was white (more so than usual) and Arthur looked like he was about to be sick. No one spoke for what had to be at least ten minutes. 

 

“Do you… do you think we should go visit her?” Karen looked at him anxiously and Matt suddenly felt very frustrated. Why did they think  _ he  _ had all the answers? He didn’t have a bloody clue what to do, and was about to say so when he noticed she was starting to cry.

 

_ Shit.  _ It wasn’t really them. He was suddenly very aware he hadn’t slept for about 36 hours and he was absolutely shattered. “Maybe. Probably. One person at a time though I think.”

 

Arthur put his arm around Karen’s shoulders and rubbed her back. “We’ll go tomorrow morning. One at a time. Let Matt rest for a bit.”

 

She nodded. “Yeah. Yeah. Sorry, you’re probably really tired, we should… we should go.”

 

He couldn’t really argue with her. He needed sleep. If he could just get some sleep, things would be much clearer tomorrow.

 

*

 

_ Clearer. _

 

Things weren’t  _ clearer  _ at all, he mused as he pulled up to the hospital the following afternoon. In fact, they were more muddied than ever. Alex had been asleep when Karen and Arthur had been early that morning, and despite expressing their disappointment, he couldn’t help noticing they seemed just slightly  _ relieved _ . Like they were afraid of what they might have found. Even though it made him feel strangely angry, he couldn’t really blame them for that; he was absolutely terrified himself.

 

Kate spotted him as he walked onto the ward and gave him a bright smile. How she could stay so sunny despite all the  _ misery  _ he didn’t know. “You’re back,” she acknowledged him. “She’s doing a bit better today.”

 

“Talking?”

 

She hesitated. “Not much. But she doesn’t know us, it might be different with you.”

 

He nodded. “Um, I was wondering…”

 

She cocked her head slightly. “Yes?”

 

“How long will she be here? In the hospital, I mean.”

 

“Ah.” She pushed a lock of black hair behind her ear, grimacing slightly. “Well, that’s…” sighing, she continued, “her injuries are such that  _ normally,  _ she would have been patched up and sent straight home. But we can’t do that, given…  _ other things.”  _ She raised an eyebrow at him. “But it’s complicated. We’re not equipped when it comes to mental health, and there’s enormous pressure on beds as I’m sure you know.”

 

He frowned. “So what’s the other option?”

 

“Oh, it’s not…” she smiled and shook her head. “It’s not something we have to worry about right now. Hopefully things will improve in the next few days and she can go home.”

 

Matt nodded slowly as she walked away, deciding that  _ not worrying about it  _ was probably the safest option. As he entered Alex’s room, she actually turned her face to look at him. “Hey.” He smiled. No response, but still, she was acknowledging his existence. “I, um, brought you some fruit, cause I know the hospital food probably sucks, right? And… oh, Karen and Arthur got you a bunch of flowers,” he motioned to the vase on her bedside table, “but I think you were asleep when they were here. Steven send you a bottle of wine and some tea,” he looked into his Tesco bag and frowned, “not so sure they’re gonna approve of that, maybe just save it until you get home?” Putting the bag down on the floor next to her bed he remembered something and started digging in his pocket. “Oh yes, and everyone on set signed this card for you.” He pulled out a “get well soon” card with a picture of a puppy on the front and stretched it out to her.

 

Carefully, she took the card from him and clutched it in her hand. She wasn’t reading the messages yet, but staring at the picture, grasping the card so hard it was beginning to bend in the middle.

 

“So I know yesterday was a bit… hard.” He swallowed as he saw her wince, unsure if it was because of the bad memory or because he’d seen her like that. “Are you feeling a bit better?”

 

It took a moment or two, but she nodded.

 

Matt felt his heart leap in his chest. He hadn’t expected  _ any  _ kind of answer. “That’s good. I… I mean it’s not gonna happen all at once, I guess they told you that?”

 

Another tiny nod.

 

“Just… baby steps I guess. And you’ll be back on set in no time” He tried a reassuring smile, whether for her or him. He was still worrying about what Kate had said, despite having told himself not to. If she didn’t improve enough in the next few days, would they put her on a psych ward? He  _ definitely  _ wasn’t comfortable with that idea.

 

“Do you know what happened?” He jumped in his seat when he heard her voice, glad he had his feet firmly on the floor or he might have fallen out. She sounded a bit drowsy, a bit  _ slow _ , but she’d spoken.

 

“Not really?” He didn’t want to tell her about what they’d read, what they’d  _ all  _ read, getting a feeling that could easily trigger a panic attack. “I mean I know you were kidnapped for a week which… I can’t even imagine, Alex. And he hurt you, obviously,” he motioned towards her arm. “And I’m guessing, maybe he did other things too. But you know, it’s all confidential, they haven’t told me anything.”

 

She nodded, still staring at the card. “They want me to talk about it,” she whispered. “But I can’t.”

 

He leaned forward slightly, careful to keep out of her personal space. “How comes?”

 

She squeezed her eyes shut, but he could see tears escaping and rolling down her cheeks. Still, she wasn’t panicking. This time it was silent. 

 

_ When they cry silently it’s cause they just can’t stop.  _

 

“Hey, it’s ok,” he attempted. “You don’t have to do anything.”

 

“I do,” she whimpered, drawing in a deep shaky breath. “But the words won’t come.” She opened her eyes, looking at him and his heart wanted to  _ break  _ at the look on her face “It was more. That…happened. But I can’t…”

 

“Give it time. At least the panic attacks seem to be getting better.”

 

She looked down again, mumbling something about pills that he didn’t quite catch. Maybe he wasn’t meant to. He knew medicating her to keep her calm probably made sense in a way, but he still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea; mostly because he had an inkling  _ she  _ wasn’t happy about It.

 

“Listen, just… try not to be so hard on yourself,” he told her, perfectly aware that was an impossible request. “I know what he did to you was horrific, and…”

 

Her head snapped around and she stared at him, wide eyes. “How?”

 

“What?”

 

“How do you know that? You said you didn’t know what happened.”

 

“I… I just mean,” Matt stammered, desperately backtracking, “being held prisoner, that… that’s pretty horrific.”

 

She shook her head, and he could see the panic in her eyes, a lot more subdued than yesterday, but still very much present. “No, that’s not what you meant. That’s not…” her voice began to break as she drew in short, sharp breaths. “Don’t. Don’t lie to me. Please.”

 

Matt felt as though multiple forces were pulling at him in different directions. He couldn’t  _ lie  _ to her, not while she was looking at him like that, not after  _ all  _ the ways she’d already been hurt, but everything was so precarious right now. Either way, he could push her over the edge. “I didn’t lie,” he said finally. “I don’t  _ know  _ what happened. I’m just… guessing.” He shook his head. “They found the guy from some website where he was posting stuff. Stuff about you. Before… before it happened, I mean. They gave us some of the stuff he’d written to see if we could recognise him. Only a few people,” he hurried to add. “And… well, it was pretty explicit; I’m just guessing what he  _ might  _ have done based on that.”

 

She blinked at him a few times before turning away. The card dropped to the bed as she clenched her fist and bit into it hard, her eyes tightly shut.

 

“Alex,” he pleaded, “Alex, don’t. Please. It doesn’t matter.” He resisted the urge to touch her; he’d already screwed up enough for one day. “If you don’t want me to know what happened: I don’t. Guessing doesn’t mean anything. In fact, I should never have guessed at all.”

 

She let out a cry as she released her fist, which now had some pretty prominent teeth marks, although thankfully she hadn’t broken the skin. After a few minutes of shallow breathing she straightened up again. “Thanks for not lying,” she said flatly without looking at him.

 

“Alex…”

 

“No.” She shook her head. “No. Please Matt, I just… I  _ can’t  _ right now.”

 

“Do you want me to go?”

 

A slight pause, then she hesitantly shook her head.

 

“Then I won’t.” And he knew even if all they did was sit there in silence, as long as she wanted him there, nothing could make him leave.


	5. And you don’t have to be strong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She shook her head, but she was smiling, and his heart was dancing in his chest. It was odd, that such a small thing like joking about hospital food - really the most predictable banter he could imagine - could make him feel so… good.

Staring into his empty coffee cup, Matt tapped his foot impatiently on the ground. Having completed every non-River scene in the entire block, the producers had resorted to filming  _ parts  _ of scenes here and there in an effort to meet (or at least come close to) production deadlines. The result of this was that Matt had swathes of free time, but none he could actually  _ use  _ as the vast majority of it was spent sitting around waiting for the crew to change the set around. It was annoying and furthermore, he didn’t like the implications of it. Alex hadn’t even been discharged from hospital yet and was still - he strongly suspected - being medicated to control her panic attacks. At this rate, when she did come back to set, she wouldn’t only be in every scene, but practically every  _ shot.  _ He’d had some pretty insane workloads on the show, being the main character, but not quite that extreme, and he hadn’t been recovering from severe trauma at the same time. There was no way they should be pushing her that hard - or pushing at all for that matter. 

 

“Hey.”

 

He looked up to see Karen had somehow snuck up during his internal monologue and was now sitting down opposite him at the picnic table. “Hey.”

 

“You seem miles away. What’s up?”

 

He shrugged. “Oh, you know. Just getting a bit bored with all this waiting around. I think I’ve actually worked for a total of about half an hour today and it’s three o’clock.”

 

She chuckled slightly. “Yeah, I know what you mean. So, um…” She hesitated, fiddling with her keychain nervously. “How’s Alex?”

 

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?” He asked, probably sounding a bit more bitter than he’d intended. 

 

She dropped her gaze, clasping the keychain harder. “I will. I haven’t had much time, I just…”

 

He didn’t reply. Truth be told, he was angry even though he was pretty sure he had no right to be. 

 

“Look, I…” she looked at him pleadingly. “I know. I  _ know,  _ ok? I’m… a horrible friend.”

 

“I just think it might be nice if you and Arthur could find time to go to the hospital just  _ once _ ?” It was none of his business, he  _ knew  _ it, and it wasn’t like Alex had said anything, but he hated the fact she was all alone in there and - with the exception of her parents, who’d had to go back home - he seemed to be the only one visiting.

 

“I keep meaning to, but… I just don’t know what to say. What  _ do  _ you say?”

 

“No one knows what to say, Kaz. You just have to try. Just imagine if it was you.”

 

Burying her face in her hands, she shook her head. “That’s the problem, I can’t  _ stop  _ imagining. And every time I do, I want to burst into tears, or scream, or  _ something _ . What if I mess up and just make things worse?”

 

He shifted uncomfortably. “Not sure it can get a lot worse.”

 

“You’re right.” She sniffed, wiping a tear from her cheek. “I’ll go. Today, I promise.”

 

“I’m going anyway, you might as well come along,” he offered, a sort of olive branch. 

 

She nodded. “Matt…” The hesitation in her voice was apparent, and she deliberately avoided looking at him. “You’ve been amazing, you know, don’t get me wrong. I really admire how much you’ve been there for her in the past few days.”

 

“But?”

 

“But…” she swallowed. “It’s just that… I know you have feelings for her. You said as much yourself.”

 

He felt himself defensively tensing up. “So?”

 

“So… I mean I’m sure you’re doing it for the right reasons. Of course you are. It’s just… maybe, subconsciously…? I don’t know. You started  _ something  _ that night, and maybe it was going somewhere and maybe it wasn’t, but things are really different now.”

 

He scoffed. “Karen, are you trying to tell me that sex isn’t going to happen? Cause I knew that already. Do you seriously think I don’t?”

 

“No!” She groaned in frustration. “I wasn’t even talking about sex. I’m just saying that your feelings for her and your desire to help her may not be totally separate things.”

 

He sighed. It wasn’t like it hadn’t crossed his mind. It wouldn’t necessarily be a problem, because of course having strong feelings for someone would be a drive to want to help them. It niggled at the back of his mind however; what  _ if _ , somehow, some small part of him was doing it for the wrong reasons? “I don’t think they are. I mean, of course they’re not. I… care for her, and whether that’s as a friend or otherwise… or  _ both  _ really, it makes me want to do whatever I can.” He shrugged. “But I’m not an idiot Kaz. I know she probably wasn’t interested before and right now there’s  _ no way _ . Doesn’t mean I’m not still her friend though.”

 

“I know. I  _ know. _ ” She put a hand on his shoulder soothingly. “And I’m not accusing you either. I don’t think you’d ever… hurt her, or anything. I’m more worried you’ll hurt yourself really.”

 

“Karen, I’m…” He shook his head. “I’m really not the one who needs your concern right now.” It was a cop-out and he knew it, but hopefully the guilt-trip would work because he did  _ not  _ want to have this conversation.

 

She bit her lip. “I know. And believe me, my level of  _ concern  _ is not the problem. I… I’m just an idiot I guess. I will come with you though, as soon as they let us go from this micro-filming circus.” 

 

He had to smile at that, and before he knew it, they were both laughing until they had tears in their eyes. It wasn’t even that funny, but the tension that had been building up released like the cork on champagne and he found he just couldn’t stop. People were looking at them like they were crazy. They probably were. But crazy, Matt thought, might have been the only thing that was going to get them through this.

 

*

 

He knocked softly before opening the door and poking his head in. Today she was sitting cross legged on the bed, picking at her cast. He’d brought her things from her flat and a few bits he’d bought, thinking she’d get bored just lying there - books, scripts, her favourite snacks and other more essential things like clothes and shampoo - but except for the latter it had remained untouched. Even the TV she had in her room still had the remote control lying on top of it, gathering dust. Still, at least she’d gotten dressed today. In yoga pants and a soft pyjama top, but he couldn’t blame her for wanting to be comfortable. It looked like she’d had a shower too, her hair more fluffy and bouncy than he’d seen it for a while. “Hey,” he spoke softly, having learned that being startled was not on her list of favourite things right now. “Look who I brought?” He stepped in the room, allowing Karen to surface behind him.

 

“Hi,” she gave a nervous little wave. “Um, it’s good to see you. I mean, I did see you, but you were sleeping, so I didn’t  _ really,  _ um, but I mean, it’s good anyway.”

 

He threw her a sympathetic glance. He hadn’t exactly done much better on his first visit. “So, the sling is gone?”

 

Alex nodded, shrugging her shoulders awkwardly. “It was, um…” her voice was so quiet he could barely hear her. “Just to keep it still cause I was…” She shrugged again. 

 

_ Because she was hurting herself,  _ he filled in mentally. Karen looked confused, but of course he’d seen her in the throes of a panic attack and could easily figure how she could have injured her arm if it wasn’t held down. Surely, then, the sling being taken off meant things were improving?

 

“Oh!” Karen reached into her bag and pulled out a stack of magazines and a huge chocolate bar. “I brought you these in case you were bored. Or hungry.” She gingerly placed them on the bedside table.

 

“Thanks,” Alex looked up at her with something resembling a smile, then quickly went back to staring at her cast. 

 

This seemed to confuse Karen but Matt was pretty used to it by now. He motioned for her to sit down and did the same, starting to tell the story of the filming they’d done during the day, going into every minute detail. Eventually Karen got the idea, and the two of them bounced off each other, regaling stories of even the most mundane things. They didn’t have the most  _ enthusiastic  _ audience, but Matt knew she was listening. The time gave him a chance to have a good look at her. The bruise on her face was almost completely faded now, but the red marks on her wrist - wrists, probably - didn’t seem to be letting up. And she looked  _ thin _ . It had been hard to gauge in the loose hospital gown but now he could really see it and it worried him. He knew she probably hadn’t eaten much, if at all, while in captivity, but he hoped she wasn’t rejecting  _ all  _ food like she was the snacks he’d offered. Then again, if she didn’t want fresh fruit and chocolates, why would she eat the lumpy mush hospitals called food? 

 

“So…” Karen had apparently noticed the silence and was desperately trying to fill it. “When are you getting out?”

 

Alex flinched. It wasn’t something they’d discussed exactly, but he wasn’t surprised it had been playing on her mind. He assumed the doctors and the psychiatrist who’d been to see her had kept her informed about their plans, but she hadn’t shared them with him. He hadn’t asked either, trying to keep his company as light-hearted as possible, but he couldn’t deny that he desperately wanted to know.

 

“I’m not sure,” she said eventually, avoiding looking at them. 

 

“But it’s just your arm right?” Karen tried again, nervously looking over at him, as if she’d realised she’d said something wrong and was now trying to smooth it over. “So I’m sure it won’t be long!”

 

“Yeah,” Alex replied, her voice dull and flat. He wondered what they’d told her. If they’d decided to move her to a psych ward, surely they would have done so by now? It seemed more likely they were holding out as long as possible, trying to make her satisfy the minimum conditions for discharge, whatever those might have been. She obviously wasn’t going to share with them though, and Matt really didn’t want to push any further.

 

“It will happen when it happens,” he added softly, and she seemed to relax a little. For a brief moment he wondered whether she  _ wanted  _ to stay, whether she felt safe there. It seemed crazy, but then again so were the circumstances. Or more likely, she was simply unable - possibly unwilling - to satisfy the doctors yet. It occurred to him eating was probably a part of it. “Is anyone hungry? I might go grab some food, bring it back here. I’m starving actually. We could have a picnic… of sorts.”

 

“There’s food in the cupboard there if you’re hungry.”

 

Of course he knew that; he’d  _ brought  _ it. Walking over to the cupboard, he picked out some biscuits, crisps and fruit - which was slightly soft by now - putting it on the makeshift table and considering his selection. 

 

Karen immediately grabbed a packet of biscuits and ripped it open. “Wow Alex, you’re hoarding food here. Not that I blame you, I mean,  _ hospital food! _ ” She shuddered.

 

“Pretty awful,” he agreed, grabbing some biscuits for himself. “Hey, sorry.” He looked over at Alex. “Didn’t mean to steal your haul.” He threw the rest of the packet over in her direction.

 

She looked over and, with all the enthusiasm of a child coming back to school after summer holidays, picked up a biscuit and nibbled on one end of it.

 

He felt a bit guilty, really, using  _ peer pressure  _ of all things. But he knew she could be her own worst enemy, especially now, and he wasn’t going to let her stay in hospital indefinitely because she didn’t  _ feel  _ like eating. Even if that was all he could do, it was a small victory. 

 

When he and Karen had finished the packet and Alex had nearly made her way through the entire biscuit, Kate entered the room. “Oh, hello,” she said cheerfully. “I didn’t know you had visitors. Just here to take your obs, sweetie.”

 

Alex quietly offered up her arm for the blood pressure cuff, but he could see her face tense up as soon as Kate came into contact with her skin. The young nurse was obviously aware too, making the whole process as delicate as possible. “Ok, heartrate’s a little high, but that’s fine,” she said cheerfully. She lowered her voice so Matt had to strain to hear her - even though that was probably the point. “Still a bit worried about your pressure. We might try some fluids on a drip, ok?”

 

Alex flinched. He could imagine that wasn’t a pleasant thought. 

 

“Let’s see how it is after dinner,” Kate offered.  _ Clever _ . “How are you feeling, do you think you need your meds now?” 

 

He was sure he could see Alex’s face flush slightly as she shook her head, and he suddenly felt guilty for eavesdropping. It was hard to find a balance though. He needed to  _ know  _ things if he was going to be of any help at all, but if she didn’t want him to know, how helpful was it really? He decided the best thing was pretending not to be listening, and turned to Karen instead. “Let’s tidy this away,” he suggested, trying to hint to her that they should give Alex some space. Luckily she got the gist and helped him put all the snacks back in the cupboard, making enough noise that neither of them could hear what Kate was saying. He glanced at Karen, who was meticulously stacking biscuit packets, as if trying to take as long as she possibly could. Her body was stiff and her eyes wouldn’t meet his. “Hey,” he whispered. “It’s all right. I  _ know _ .”

 

She nodded, still looking at the biscuits. “I’m just gonna tidy these up,” she replied, her voice slightly shaky.

 

Leaving her to it, he turned back in time to wave to Kate as she left the room. “So what’s for dinner?”

 

For the first time that day, or actually ever since she’d come to the hospital (as far as he knew at least) Alex genuinely smiled. Amused smile rather than happy, but hell, he’d take it. “Mmm, I think it might be the soggy, over cooked pasta in sauce that tastes like flour. Or it could be cardboard and gravy. I guess I’m just gonna have to wait and find out.”

 

He laughed. “I think my favourite is the desserts. The rice pudding that comes in one big blob is  _ delicious _ .” At her quizzical look he added; “what? Have you  _ seen  _ me try to walk in a straight line without accidents? You can’t be  _ surprised  _ at how intimately acquainted I am with hospital food.”

 

She shook her head, but she was smiling, and his heart was dancing in his chest. It was odd, that such a small thing like joking about hospital food - really the most predictable banter he could imagine - could make him feel so…  _ good.  _ “Makes even craft services seem like a luxury,” she commented.

 

“What about craft services?” Karen, who had returned from the cupboard with slightly redder eyes than before, added.

 

“Oh, I think Alex is about to explain to us,  _ again _ , how much better they are in America,” Matt joked.

 

Karen lit up. “Oh, please Alex. Tell us about the sets over there. It gives me hope that there’s more out there than soggy sandwiches and 20 year old trailers.” She rolled her eyes dramatically and grinned.

 

“I’m sure you’ll find out for yourself some day.”

 

“Thanks, um…” Karen sighed. “I just wanted to say… I don’t know.” She looked over at Matt pleadingly and he gave her an encouraging nod. “I’m really sorry. About… you know, what happened. And about not coming sooner, I really should have but I was just… and I’m really sorry.” She went up to the bed and put one knee on it, leaning forward to, probably, underline her words with a hug. Of course, Alex instantly flew backwards with a gasp, causing Karen to retreat, stumbling off the bed, her eyes wide and her face red. “Oh God, um, I,” she rambled. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think, I… I’m such an idiot, I’m sorry, I should…” Her voice beginning to break, she quickly turned to flee from the room.

 

Matt sighed, closing his eyes. Ordinarily, he would have followed her, but Karen was a big girl. She could look after herself. Still, he’d call her later. “Hey. Are you ok? She didn’t mean to…”

 

Alex shook her head, refusing to look at him. “Of course she didn’t mean to.”

 

“She just…”

 

“Didn’t want to come in the first place.” She pulled her knees up, hugging them to her chest. “You don’t need to do this, you know.”

 

“Do what?”

 

“Come here every day. Force Karen to come with you. Throw biscuits at me.” She closed her eyes, drawing a deep breath.

 

“I’m just…” he stumbled over his words, “just… I want you to be ok.”

 

She didn’t respond, instead resting her forehead against her knees. Her curls tumbled off her shoulders with the movement, hiding her face from him.

 

“I don’t  _ know  _ what happened exactly but…”

 

“Oh for God’s sake Matt,” she suddenly burst out, lifting her face to look at him. Her eyes were shiny and brimming with tears, but her voice was pointed. Angry. “Of  _ course  _ you know.”

 

He sank down on the chair, suddenly feeling utterly deflated. “Yeah. I do.”

 

“You just…” she took in a shuddering breath, pausing for a second. “Pretend like you don’t because you think it’ll make me feel better. Just like you pretend Karen  _ wanted  _ to come here; to make me feel better. Like you pretend to be starving so you can make me eat a bloody biscuit.” A tear was making its way down her cheek and she wiped at it furiously, as if it had personally wronged her.

 

“Well, I…” he wanted to protest, but didn’t know how. All the things she was saying were true, but at the same time he wasn’t sure he should be chastised for them. “I’m just trying to  _ help _ .”

 

She shook her head, her shoulders shaking silently as tears ran down her face. “You  _ can’t  _ help.”

 

“I don’t know. The first time I came here you didn’t say a word, couldn’t even look at me. Now you’re shouting at me.” He shrugged. “That’s… probably good. I’m not saying I’m doing everything right, but I’m  _ trying _ .”

 

She looked straight at him, anger through the tears. “And you’re saying I’m  _ not? _ ”

 

“No!” He tried to quench his  _ own  _ feelings of anger, reminding himself over and over that he couldn’t argue about this with her, even though part of him wanted to. “Alex, I know you’re trying,” he said gently. “I’ve never said you’re not.”

 

Apparently determined to have a fight, she shook her head. “But not hard enough, right?” 

 

He felt like he needed to de-escalate things but wasn’t sure how. How had they even landed up here when five minutes ago they were talking about bloody  _ craft services? _

 

“I’m not even…” she was really, properly crying now, trying to get her words out between hiccoughs. “I can’t get  _ out  _ of this place, they won’t let me - because I’m still - freaking out and - I can’t sleep or eat because I’m always…” She gasped for breath. “I just want it to  _ stop. _ ”

 

He could almost  _ hear  _ the panic building before she even started hyperventilating, clutching at the sheets so hard her knuckles were going white. 

 

“Ok, it’s ok.” He tried to stay calm even though his own heart was pounding in his chest. He hadn’t seen her have a panic attack, not since that first, terrifying day. “I’m gonna call the nurse, ok?”

 

“No,” she gasped. “Please, no.”

 

He wasn’t sure what to do. His brain was screaming at him to get someone he knew what the hell they were doing but  _ she didn’t want that  _ and the last thing he wanted to do was break any trust she may have still had in him. “Ok. Ok, I won’t.”

 

She clenched her eyes shut and breathed heavily. Whether she was trying to stop the panic attack or ride it out, he wasn’t sure. 

 

The only thing he could do was try to talk her through it. “I know how hard you’re trying. They will let you go home soon, they just want to be sure it’s safe. No one thinks you’re… weak, or not trying hard enough, or whatever else you might think. It’s ok to struggle, it’s ok to get help, whether that’s talking or… medication or being in hospital, I don’t know, it doesn’t really matter but you don’t have to be strong all the time, you don’t have to  _ manage  _ by yourself. If I can help you through this,” he motioned towards her, “or you do it yourself, that’s fine, if we need to call the nurse for help, that’s fine too. What you need to do is not judge yourself or think anyone else is judging you, because believe me, they’re not, we just all want to help you and the only thing that matters is just getting through  _ right now _ , it doesn’t matter so much how, just… as long as you get through it. Being able to eat and sleep and… manage the panic by yourself, it’ll come, it  _ will _ .” He paused, noticing her breathing had begun to slow down, now coming in deep, controlled  _ ins  _ and  _ outs _ .

 

He wondered as she finally relaxed and tumbled back onto the bed if that had been as cathartic for her as it had for him.


	6. Back Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn’t as if he’d thought a week or two would simply wash away everything that had happened - he wasn’t a complete idiot - but it seemed weird how one day she needed to be in hospital and the next she didn’t, and he couldn’t see what the difference was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments, please be aware there could be some triggering content (descriptions of ptsd/panic attacks)

He had imagined that once Alex was out of hospital, things would have changed, they’d be  _ different.  _ But they weren’t, not really. He knew there had to have been some kind of improvement for the doctors to decide she could be discharged, but it either wasn’t noticeable to him or his expectations of recovery were simply too high. 

 

It wasn’t as if he’d thought a week or two would simply wash away everything that had happened - he wasn’t a complete idiot - but it seemed weird how one day she needed to be in hospital and the next she didn’t, and he couldn’t see what the difference was.

 

In fact, as he watched her standing in the living room of her flat, her left arm wrapped around herself protectively as she simply stared at her surroundings, he wondered if it had been the right decision at all. Was she actually any better or had it simply been that they couldn’t justify occupying a bed for someone who wasn’t physically ill any longer? He knew they’d sent her home with pills for sleeping and for her panic attacks as well as setting up daily visits by a counsellor, but the idea of her, in her flat, alone - it scared him to death. The only comfort was that he, as well as Karen and Arthur who had finally started getting more involved, were so nearby. Between them, they could check in on her often enough, which would hopefully be helpful and not just drive her mad.

 

He picked up the bag she’d dropped at the door and put it on the kitchen table. Pulling out the things inside - all the stuff he’d brought, really, he started putting it back where he’d found it. He wasn’t sure what to do with the medication, so left it on the table. The last thing he pulled out was a bunch of leaflets.  _ The Survivor’s Trust Wales,  _ he read before quickly putting them back. She still hadn’t told her anything about what actually happened during her captivity, and he didn’t want to appear as though he was prying.

 

Alex was still standing like a statue in the middle of the living room, as if she was unsure of what to do with herself. It struck him that perhaps she too had imagined coming out of hospital differently. He knew though that she had worried about getting put in a psychiatric ward, so there was a relief in that not happening. He assumed, given they’d handed over boxes of pills, she’d shown no sign of wanting to harm herself.

 

Small mercies.

 

“Hey.” He spoke softly, still mindful of startling her. “Shall I make some tea while you get yourself settled in?”

 

She looked up at him, dazed as if he’d woken her from a dream. “Yes.” She nodded. “Yes, um… that sounds good.” Turning from him, she walked into her bedroom and shut the door. 

 

He sighed and returned to the kitchen to put the kettle on. Opening the drawers he pulled out a plate and piled it high with biscuits - the ones he’d brought back from the hospital. If he continued like this, he wasn’t going to fit into the Doctor’s costume any more, but apparently eating was how he dealt with stress. He’d never even known. Stress before had always been about things he needed to  _ do  _ like study or work. This was a lot of sitting around and worrying. He wasn’t great at that.

 

As he placed the tea and biscuits down onto the coffee table, Alex came out of her bedroom, having changed into sweatpants and a huge hoodie - he wondered if it could even be hers - and sat down in the corner of the sofa, pulling her feet up under her.

 

“So,” he took a sip of his tea. “Good to be home?”

 

She hesitated slightly before answering. “Yes.” Looking down at her tea instead of him, he could see her shoulders curling in further, as if trying to disappear into herself.

 

“But?” He presses her.

 

“It’s nothing,” she shook her head.

 

“Well, if it’s really nothing, then it’s no big deal to tell me, right?”

 

“I…” she stared stubbornly into her tea. “I’m fine. They let me out, so obviously that means I’m fine.”

 

“Does it though?”

 

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I really wanted to get out, and I guess I imagined somehow that if they’d only discharge me, everything would be ok.”

 

He was glad she was actually sort of speaking to him now. It was as if their kind-of argument in the hospital had cleared the air somehow. He no longer tried to pretend around her and in return she pretended  _ less  _ at least. “I kind of felt the same,” he admitted. “Not that I  _ expect  _ everything to be fine now but you’re right. The hospital was a sort of place to not be ok in and now you’re here. It’s a bit odd. But it’s good, I think. It must mean that the doctors think you’re improving.”

 

She sighed. “I mean… kind of? They couldn’t keep me on the ward indefinitely and they didn’t want to put me in…” she swallowed “you know, the… the  _ psychiatric  _ ward because I’m not… I’m not hurting myself or anyone else and they didn’t think it would actually help me. They’re probably right. Getting back to normal - as much as possible, that’s… I don’t know.” She took a sip of tea, closing her eyes as the liquid hit her throat. “Honestly, I’m not sure what to do now. I guess I’ll go back to work?”

 

“Don’t rush it,” he warned her. “No one expects you to jump straight back in.” He purposely had not mentioned to her the concerns that had been raised about meeting production deadlines. It wasn’t something that she should add to her worries right now.

 

“I  _ want  _ to.” She tapped her fingers nervously on the cup. “I’m just…” she paused, then shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s really stupid.”

 

“I’m sure it’s not.” He picked up another biscuit, his third he thought - he really needed to get this under control.

 

Her head bent, she whispered something and he wasn’t sure if it was to him or to herself.

 

“Alex?”

 

She shifted uncomfortable. “There’s so many people there.” Her voice was still silent enough he had to strain to hear her. “I really don’t want to freak out in front of everyone. And I’m still… it still happens. A lot. And there’s always a lot of touching involved.”

 

She’d never mentioned the touching issue before - of course they both knew but they’d never talked about it and he was surprised. “We’ll work around it. But don’t rush yourself.”

 

She dropped her gaze and sighed. “I know they must be awfully behind already.”

 

“That’s not…” he struggled to find the words. “Alex, compared to your health, production schedules are completely unimportant. Irrelevant, even.”

 

“I know, I know, but sitting here all day is just gonna…” she shrugged. “I’d appreciate the distraction.”

 

“Is it weird? To be here, I mean.”

 

“A little. It’s just… it feels like I haven’t been here for so long, but it was just a couple of weeks ago. And everything is just how I left it. I remember throwing that script on the bed before going out with you to that bar. I was going to read it when I got back.” She fell silent for a moment, clenching her hand hard around her cup. “God,” she whispered, “why did I have to leave early? If we’d gone back all together…”

 

He felt a stab of guilt in his chest. It was the same thought that had gone around in his own head. “I’m so sorry, Alex,” he blurted out, without even really meaning to. “It was my fault you left, I know that.” He’d never said it before, not wanting to  _ remind  _ her really or force her to try to assuage his own guilt.

 

She shook her head gently, her face still turned down, out of view, but she didn’t reply.

 

“At first I thought you might have gone away because… because of what I did. And I really am sorry.”

 

“I wouldn’t have,” she whispered. “I think… I think I was going to talk to you about it when we were both sober. But I can’t right now.”

 

“We don’t have to ever speak about it if you don’t want to,” he assured her, even though part of him was dying to hear what she might have said given the chance.  _ No. Stop it. Don’t make this about you _ , he reprimanded himself.

 

She sighed. “I think we probably have to. Some day.”

 

He noticed she hadn’t touched the biscuits. He wasn’t sure if eating was still an issue for her; he was never at the hospital when they brought out the food and biscuit intake couldn’t really be used as a reliable measurement. “Alex?” He shifted uncomfortably. “I know it’s probably none of my business and feel free to slap me…”

 

She finally looked up at him, her eyes shiny and questioning.

 

“Are you eating anything now? It’s just I know you said you were struggling with it and now you’re not in hospital there’s no one to keep track.”

 

“Please don’t, Matt.” She put her tea down and stood up, walking away from him.

 

He wasn’t sure whether to push or not. It wasn’t his place, but who else was going to make sure she ate enough? “I know you might not want to, but I’m worried it’s just going to make it worse.”

 

“I said  _ don’t, _ ” she snapped back. She was leaning her back against the wall, her body tightly hunched like she was bracing for something.

 

“I just want to help you,” he tried pleadingly.

 

She shook her head vigorously. “Stop it then. Just  _ stop.  _ You don’t… you haven’t got a  _ fucking clue,  _ all right? How could you? You have no idea what it was like, what that monster did to me.” Her voice was tight as though she was fighting hard against the tears. “How it’s on fucking  _ replay  _ in my head every second of the day. How his hands are on me  _ all  _ the time. So I’m really sorry that everything makes me want to be  _ sick  _ and there’s a fucking lump in my throat and I can’t swallow, I’m so  _ sorry  _ if that makes you feel uncomfortable.” She was breathing heavily, obviously determined not to cry.

 

He found himself tearing up, the helplessness rising up in his chest, making it harder to breathe as though it had settled itself on his lungs. “I’m sorry, Alex. I’m really, really sorry. You’re right, I haven’t got a clue. And maybe that’s why I… I don’t know how to fix all that, so I’m just trying, you know, the tiny little things I can do.”

 

Her only response was deep, shuddering breaths.

 

“But I get it,” he continued. “It feels like I’m hounding you and I’ll stop, ok? I’m not a doctor, or an expert in any way and I can’t…” He stood up, walking closer to her but making sure he left some space between them. “I can’t make it all go away. But I  _ can  _ be here and talk about nonsense, and make tea, and put on silly movies, take you out for walks if you feel up to it, or any other distractions I can think of. If that’s ok with you?”

 

There was a pause for a moment, then a tiny nod.

 

So that’s what he did. He desperately wanted to know what was going on in her head, whether she was eating or sleeping, what she talked about with the counsellor who came daily, but he hid his questions behind a bright smile and kept his promise. For the next week, every morning he turned up with coffee, dragging her out for a stroll to the shops or just to sit by the water, discreetly excusing himself when the counsellor turned up. Every evening he was there with food - which she sometimes even ate - and movies or box sets for them to watch, and even though he nearly had to physically restrain himself, he didn’t ask any questions.

 

*

 

_ Her hands were tied above her head. She was yanking desperately at the rope until her wrists burned but it wouldn’t budge. There were no windows in the room, only a dim light in the ceiling and she was cold. That’s when she realised she wasn’t wearing any clothes. When had that happened?  _

 

_ And then, suddenly, hands were on her naked skin, wandering up her body and she tensed up, too frightened even to scream. _

 

_ He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Oh, I am going to worship you…” _

 

Alex woke, covered in a sheen of sweat and tangled in her sheet. Gasping, she struggled against the fabrics to escape her bed and run to the bathroom. Kneeling over the toilet, she retched again and again, tears mixing with bile in the water.

 

Sinking down on the bathroom floor, she tried to quell the panic that was already raging inside. Her breath coming out in short, shuddering gasps, she tried to remember the techniques her counsellor had taught her. “I’m in the bathroom, in my flat, in Cardiff, it’s 3.42 in the morning, the tiles are cold…” It was no use. Unable to speak anymore, running out of breath, she could already feel herself beginning to hyperventilate. On shaking legs she stood up and ran the cold tap over her hands, trying to concentrate on the sensation. 

 

None of it was working, not when she could  _ hear  _ his voice in her ear, like he was right  _ there. _ She opened the medicine cabinet and fumbled with the packaging, managing to get a pill down her throat. She’d hate herself later but right now, she couldn’t even  _ breathe.  _ There was no air. Where had all the air gone?

 

She suddenly had to  _ leave _ . She couldn’t breathe in there, she had to get out. Her legs barely carrying her, she stumbled out of her flat with no idea where to go. The corridor, the doors all seemed to melt into one big blob and she was walking in slow motion. She needed  _ air.  _ There had to be air somewhere. 

 

Without even realising what she was doing, she found herself banging on a door and subconsciously, she must have known because within a minute, a sleepy, confused Matt stood there, his eyes wide in alarm.

 

“I’m sorry,” she gasped. “I… I don’t know what I’m doing, I just, I can’t  _ breathe,  _ something’s wrong, I’m just… I’m sorry,” where earlier she hadn’t been able to talk, now she couldn’t  _ stop _ . But she felt, kind of, like his presence made it just that little bit easier to breathe.

 

“Come on,” he said softly. “I’ll put some rubbish telly on and we’ll fall asleep on the couch.”

 

She nodded and, still shaking but at least breathing, followed him inside. She curled up in the corner of the sofa while he flicked on an old sit-com and sat down, some distance between them - although part of her wanted the physical comfort of being embraced, held like she was protected, she knew that touch would just set her off again. There were so many variables, she sometimes felt like she was walking on eggshells around  _ herself _ .  

 

As the medication began to kick in and took the edge off a little, she let his presence relax her. He’d been a constant, really, for this past couple of weeks and she wasn’t sure she could have done it without him. He was always just  _ there _ , no questions asked, no demands, even at this crazy time of the morning when he’d probably rather be asleep. It was more comforting than she’d ever have thought; where counsellors and doctors wanted constant discussions on things that made her scared and uncomfortable - which yes, she knew she had to have, but it was still  _ hard  _ \- Matt’s therapy came in the form of simplicity. Of course she knew he wanted answers, but he didn’t  _ demand  _ them and she couldn’t have been more grateful for that. He just sat there, watching stupid telly at 4 am, and she thought it might just have been the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was very hard to remember or figure out how she’d felt about it, given its very unfortunate timing. His kiss, and then what seemed like moments later, another’s kiss, and more than kissing. They were jumbled in her mind, like her feelings from one seeped over into the other and she hadn’t even tried figuring out how she might have felt about it if none of that horror had happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for violence in this chapter

He woke up, groaning at the crick in his neck. He really shouldn’t fall asleep sitting up. He glanced over to look at Alex, who was curled up at the other end of the sofa, her head on the armrest, still fast asleep.

 

He sighed even as the sight of her tugged on his heartstrings. When she’d come to his door in the middle of the night, he’d been terrified. She’d looked so completely lost and said she couldn’t breathe - at least that’s what he’d been able to make out, her speech had been slurred, almost as if she was drunk. Part of him had wanted to call an ambulance, but he’d known that was likely to exacerbate her panic. Seeing her shaking with fear at the end of the sofa, well, it had been  _ so  _ hard not to just hold her. But of course he knew better. And his strategy seemed to have worked for now: the question really was; how long could she carry on like this?

 

Not wanting to wake her, he carefully tip toed into the kitchen to make some tea. He didn’t have work today - there was nothing more they could do without Alex, although he was desperately trying to keep that fact from her. He sat down with his mug, staring into the tea, watching the steam rising from the liquid. He wondered how often things had been this bad and she  _ hadn’t  _ come to him. Quite honestly, he’d thought she was getting better. Tiny step by tiny step of course, but still. It hadn’t occurred to him that things could be a lot worse than what she was showing him. It was marvellous, the face she could put on when she wanted to.

 

He’d seen it himself, when she’d spoken to Salome over Skype. Florian had apparently never told her about the kidnapping, not wanting to panic the young girl, and Alex had continued that charade as soon as she’d been well enough to call. As far as her daughter was concerned, Alex had been in an accident and spent a week or so unconscious in hospital. He wasn’t sure how she was going to keep that up for longer periods than Skype calls, but he also couldn’t imagine how to tell a ten-year old the whole truth. 

 

No, it made sense to put on a face for her daughter, but he hadn’t thought that she would be doing the same to him. How many nights had she spent like this before she came to him?

 

At least she  _ did _ , eventually.

 

Just as he’d finished his tea he heard stirring from the living room. Flicking the kettle back on, he walked in to check on her. 

 

She was picking her head up from the armrest, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands. Her hair was a complete mess, and she looked positively adorable.

 

“Morning.”

 

She looked up at him and blinked. “Matt! I…” she looked around her, eyes still heavy with sleep. “Oh…” Recollection flashed across her face, her shoulders tensing up slightly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous. Do you want tea?”

 

She nodded. When he returned from the kitchen, she’d straightened out her clothes and made some attempt at putting her curls back in the right direction. “Thanks,” she whispered before sipping at the tea. 

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, a little apprehensive.

 

She blinked a few times, then sighed. “It was just a dream.”

 

“A nightmare?”

 

She nodded.

 

“Do you… have them a lot?”

 

After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded again. “This one felt more real though.” She looked as though she was about to say something else, but then suddenly clamped up again.

 

“I’m glad you came here. Really.” He sat down, cradling his mug. 

 

She frowned. “I didn’t mean to, I just… one moment I was in my flat and then I was here. I guess there must have been some purpose though; I obviously landed up at  _ your  _ door for a reason.”

 

He knew what she meant, and it really shouldn’t, but his heart couldn’t help but beat faster at her words. Seeing her take it as a given that her panicked self would seek  _ him  _ out before anyone else; it must have meant he was doing something right. “Do you want me to stay with you?” he blurted out, before he’d really thought about it.

 

She frowned. “Stay? Sorry, I didn’t realise you were going somewhere.” She put her tea down and started to get up before he could stop her.

 

“No, no,” he hurried, urging her to sit back down. “I meant… you have an extra bedroom in your flat.” Most of the flats in the building were tiny, but she was always allocated one of the few two beds for when Salome was there. “I could stay with you for a bit, I mean, if you think it would help.”

 

Her gaze dropped and she bit her lip. “That’s… really sweet, Matt, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

 

He hadn’t expected anything else really, but he had to wonder  _ why  _ it wasn’t. Was it to do with the kiss, and the fact he obviously had feelings for her - he couldn’t even pretend she didn’t know after that night - or was there more to it than that? He didn’t like the thought; his mind beginning to question what she might not want him to see, the nightmares she  _ hadn’t  _ woken him up for. 

 

She could obviously see his thoughtfulness as guilt flashed across her face. “Look, it’s not… it’s nothing to do with you, you’ve been… amazing. It’s just that I’m sort of a control freak right now and I need to be able to choose whether I… I don’t know, reach out or not.” 

 

It sort of made sense. If she’d just had a nightmare about... _ well,  _ and he came running into her bedroom, maybe it would just make things worse. The idea of anyone having  _ access  _ to her would probably freak her out, even if she knew he would never hurt her in any way. It wasn’t really about logic, realistically. “You don’t have to explain yourself,” he shook his head. “I understand. I just...worry.”

 

“I know.” She bowed her head, curling in on herself slightly. “And I know that, at least  _ part  _ of that is because… well, because I don’t really talk to you. It’s just, it’s really  _ hard  _ and…” she lifted her head again and he could see tears in her eyes, “and the bloody counsellor makes me do it every day, like she  _ wants  _ to just drag it up again and again, and it’s been really nice to not have to tell you everything, that you’re just  _ there  _ anyway.” She wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve. “But I know that’s not really fair on you, to expect that, and…”

 

“Hey,” he cut her off gently. “The only problem

I see here is that you’re worrying about what’s fair on anyone else. I’m not expecting a  _ reward  _ for being there.”

 

“I know, I know.” She pulled in a deep breath, wiping at her eyes again. “Sometimes I want to, but… it’s really hard to find the words. And in a way it’s almost embarrassing.”

 

“ _ Embarrassing? _ ”

 

She squirmed uncomfortably. “It’s not the right word I guess. I don’t really know what to call it. I mean would you  _ really  _ want to hear it?”

 

He thought about it. Of course he wanted to know what had happened, but did he want to actually  _ hear  _ Alex describe how someone had repeatedly raped her?  _ Embarrassing  _ was definitely the wrong word, but he couldn’t find a good one either.

 

“See?” She’d taken his silence as an answer. 

 

“No, that’s not it,” he protested. “I mean it would definitely be hard to hear, I can’t deny that. But if there’s  _ anything  _ that you think might help to talk about, please do. Maybe if you started with the less scary things. Like, how about your arm?”

 

_ It was four days into her captivity - she only knew this because of the tiny window at the very top of the wall where she could see night turn into day. She was alone a lot, giving her plenty of time to dread the next time he’d come down, put his hands on her and whisper horrible words of love as he forced himself on her, again and again. He said this was her life now, and she was beginning to believe him. It was clear no one was coming to find her. _

 

_ She’d pulled at her binds so much now they had begun to bite into her wrists and ankles, the rope stained red, and yet she couldn’t stop. He hadn’t mentioned it either; perhaps he hadn’t noticed. If she was lucky, maybe she’d get an infection from the dirty ropes and get very sick. He’d have to take her to hospital. Or he wouldn’t, and she’d die. Either way seemed preferable to staying. _

 

_ As she heard his footsteps approaching, she gave one more yank at the rope, as hard as she could. The rope rode up slightly, exposing the dried blood on her wrist, but stubbornly refusing to go any further. It was no use and she closed her eyes as she heard him approach. _

 

_ “What’s happened here?” He asked in a sickly sweet voice. “Did you hurt yourself?” She felt his hand on her wrist, examining the rope. “Why would you do that?” His voice was angry now, presumably having figured out the reason. “Why would you do this to me? Do you  _ want  _ to be hurt?” His voice was rising higher and higher and she opened her eyes slightly to see he was walking away from her. For a moment she relaxed, but then he returned, holding a piece of...pipe? Some kind of round metal thing. “You like hurting, do you? Have I been too gentle with you? Well, try this.”  _

 

_ She didn’t even have time to react before the metal hit her arm; there was a sickly crunching noise and oh god it  _ hurt!  _ She screamed and he dropped it on the floor with a satisfied smile. _

 

_ “Is that better sweetheart?” His voice was back to normal. “Do you want to play now?” _

 

Alex shook her head, feeling the tears running down her cheeks. “No,” she blurted out. “No.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Matt’s eyes were wide and panicked. “ _ Shit,  _ I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked, I…”

 

“It’s ok,” she whispered. For a few moments, she just kept taking deep breaths, trying to calm the tears and push the memory away. “It’s not your fault, I know you were trying…” She reached out and touched her cast, suddenly very aware of it. It was cold and rough and somehow grounding.  _ That part is over _ , she reminded herself.  _ It’s just healing now. _

 

“Let’s just…” Matt was fumbling for words in his very  _ Matt  _ way. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

 

She thought about it. She’d been frightened to go out by herself - still was - and at first she hadn’t wanted to go with Matt either, but he’d insisted and she’d caved. After the night she’d had, she was tempted to just hide in her flat the whole day, but she reminded herself that their walks  _ helped.  _ She nodded. “I just need to get dressed,” she said, suddenly remembering she’d ran over there in just pyjamas.

 

“Ok,” he nodded. He walked her back to her flat, concern in his eyes as he left her at the door.

 

She didn’t like seeing it. She was grateful for all he did, of course she was, but she couldn’t help feeling like she was  _ hurting  _ him. It had crossed her mind more than once that perhaps she was relying on him too much, that the positive energy he gave to her might work the other way around;  _ her  _ emotional state transferring on him. Just as she was scared and felt awful all the time, well, maybe he did too. Because of her.

 

She closed her eyes and leaned her back against the door. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. She’d considered pushing him away, for his own good really, but every time he showed up, smiling, bringing that tiny piece of hope that  _ maybe, one day  _ things could be ok, she couldn’t. And if she did, would it just make him worry more? She gave a tiny grunt of frustration. It seemed like she couldn’t win; the more she hid from him the more he worried, but the things she had to tell him… well, they probably made him worry too.

 

_ Maybe you should just take him at face value,  _ she reproached herself.  _ He wants to help and he doesn’t want you to worry about how he’s feeling. He  _ just  _ wants to help. _

 

But it was hard to convince herself he didn’t have  _ any  _ other motive than pure friendship after what had happened just before...well, just  _ before _ . That kiss  _ shouldn’t  _ have come out of the blue for her, given how he’d been behaving all night. It was very hard to remember or figure out how she’d felt about it, given its very unfortunate timing. His kiss, and then what seemed like moments later, another’s kiss, and more than kissing. They were jumbled in her mind, like her feelings from one seeped over into the other and she hadn’t even  _ tried  _ figuring out how she might have felt about it if none of that horror had happened. It didn’t  _ really  _ matter anyway because it did happen, and kissing anybody was the last thing she wanted to do.

 

No, that wasn’t even really the issue. It was that niggling doubt of Matt’s motivation. A part of her - albeit a small part - wondered if he was hoping for something more, beyond  _ just  _ the altruistic desire for her emotional state to improve. Maybe he was hoping he for some kind of  _ reward  _ eventually.

 

She knew, realistically, that it was the PTSD doing the thinking for her, but it didn’t change the fact that she still  _ felt  _ it. A little. And combined with the fear that she was hurting him, it made her want to pull away. Self-sabotage, the counsellor had called it, reassuring her it was quite normal. 

 

But at the same time, she’d ran to him last night when she couldn’t even think at all, and she was hoping that meant, beneath all the messed up thoughts, her true feelings was complete trust for him. Because she  _ wanted _ to, so badly. It wasn’t his fault that the night he’d drunkenly kissed her was the same night that she’d been kidnapped. He didn’t deserve these fears.

 

Starting to pull herself together, she went to put some actual clothes on, which was difficult with one arm, but she’d started to get better at it, just avoiding anything with buttons. Once she’d finished, she went to find Matt waiting outside her door. Attempting a smile, she tried to push any doubts away from her mind. He  _ wanted  _ to help, and she had to believe that.

 

As they approached the exit to the building, she began to feel the familiar sense of dread, telling her to turn around and hide where it was  _ safe _ . She pushed it away, taking a deep breath as Matt opened the heavy door, stepping through and letting it shut with a loud  _ clunk  _ behind them.

 

As the cold Cardiff air hit her, she could feel herself beginning to calm down, just a little. It was quiet; late enough in the morning to miss the work and school rush but too early for most people to be wandering around. In the distance, she could hear the sound of seagulls. They walked slowly in silence, past the Millennium Centre and down to the bay. Alex found herself staring at the ripples in the water as she stood, leaning against the fence, Matt hovering close enough for her to feel relatively safe.

 

“I think I want to go back to work,” she suddenly found herself saying, to even her own surprise. She hadn’t actually thought that much about it, but it  _ was  _ true.

 

His head snapped up. “Alex, I told you…”

 

“That I don’t have to, I know. And it’s not even about feeling… guilty or anything now. I just want my life back. I know it’s not gonna be like it was before, maybe not for a long time, but I can’t  _ wait  _ for that forever.” She looked up at him, silently pleading for him to understand. “I have to, I don’t know, try to claim back whatever I can. Even if it’s difficult.”

 

Although there was a troubled look on his face, he nodded. “Yeah. I think I get it. I mean, I  _ do  _ get it. Just… promise me you’ll take it slow, ok? Little bits to start with and don’t keep  _ pushing  _ if it gets too much.”

 

She wanted to protest, just automatically, but he was right. “Yes.”

 

He frowned. “Yes, what?”

 

“Yes, I promise.” With some hesitation, she reached out a trembling hand and placed it lightly on top of his. His eyes widened in surprise and she felt a flash of anxiety at the contact, but at the same time just touching another person was incredible. 

 

After a moment he smiled and looked back at the water, his fingers curling around hers, so lightly she could pull away in a moment if she wanted to. But once she’d  _ done  _ it, it didn’t seem so bad. For just those moments, as they stood watching the gentle waves ripple the water, she actually felt at peace.


	8. There wasn’t anyone else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Alex.” There was an undertone of anger in his voice. “You need to stop this.” He paused, and she thought he must have been able to see the distress on her face because his voice softened. “It’s ok. People here may not know exactly what happened but they aren’t idiots; they know something happened and that you didn’t just go off work for the hell of it. All I ever heard the entire time we were filming without you was concern. Not a single complaint about the changes to the schedule, just worry that you would be ok. They all know what you’re like, they’re not going to think that you’ve come back and… and suddenly turned primadonna. So please, Alex. I’m begging you. Let us make this as easy for you as possible, because I know it can’t be. Easy, that is. Please?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments! I appreciate all of them, even if it’s just “please update” it motivates me to write more :D

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” 

 

Matt’s eyes were filled with unabated concern as he held the door to her flat open. His hand was twitching, as if considering slamming it shut and calling off the whole thing.

 

That probably was  _ exactly  _ what he was thinking.

 

“Yes,” she stated resolutely, even though she wasn’t sure at all. But then, if she waited for  _ that _ , she could be stuck inside forever. She’d spoken to her counsellor, and although the woman had expressed some concerns about  _ pushing herself too much, too early,  _ she had agreed with Alex’s view of taking some of her life back. As long as she did it slowly and gently.

 

That was easier said than done. No one had said anything to her, but she wasn’t a complete idiot. She knew how behind schedule they had to be at this point and the constant presence of Matt, Karen and Arthur in the building she could only conclude to mean there was nothing left for them to do without her.

 

Despite her counsellor’s advice, she couldn’t help but feel the pressure. 

 

“We’re just gonna do a short day today,” Matt explained as they walked out to the car. “We’ll stop whenever you want.”

 

She nodded, the familiar sense of panic rising in her chest as she scanned the environment around them. It had become a habit, creeping into her everyday routine with her barely even noticing. Always look for threats. She slid into the car where Karen and Arthur were already waiting, smiling encouragingly at her. She smiled back at them, not wanting them to see how nervous she was. The last thing she wanted was for everyone to be walking on eggshells around her - she’d had quite enough of that already.

 

The journey was short and comfortable enough, Alex settling for listening to the others discussing what scenes they would be shooting. With her cast still being on and set to be so for another few weeks, Steven would have had to make some costume adjustments and use of creative angles - not to mention write out anything that would require the use of her right arm.

 

Yet again, she felt a rush of guilt at everyone having to adjust to  _ her.  _ She knew of course that no one blamed her, and realistically she also knew the guilt was ridiculous, but that didn’t mean she didn’t  _ feel  _ it. It wasn’t like it was just Matt, Karen and Arthur who were affected - there were any number of people whose work schedules would have been cast into uncertainty; people who didn’t know her personally and wouldn’t be aware of exactly what had happened. Not that she  _ wanted  _ them to be of course. That would probably be about the only thing that could make this situation even worse.

 

“You all right?” 

 

She looked up at Matt to realise they had already arrived. She nodded, following him out of the car which had stopped right outside the studio doors. Walking inside felt comfortingly familiar, the lobby she had to have gone through a hundred times looking the same as ever. They went past reception and through the corridor leading to the studio.

 

It was busy. Of course it was, she could never have expected otherwise. Even when they were just rehearsing there were always a number of people rushing around, but when they were filming it was at a whole other level. She’d  _ known  _ but apparently she hadn’t totally prepared for it, because every part of her was screaming to run the other way. The safety checks she’d barely even noticed doing was driving her crazy now; it was like a compulsion that was  _ impossible  _ to meet when there was noise and people everywhere, the environment constantly moving and changing with no pattern, no way for her to keep an eye on everything at once.

 

Her vision blurring, she suddenly felt dizzy and stumbled back against the wall. Immediately, he was there, his hand lightly gripping hers, like an anchor pulling her back from the storm. “Come on,” he whispered, the worry barely concealed in his voice. “Just follow me.”

 

She let him guide her, keeping her head down and trying to take no notice, or at least  _ less  _ notice, of the flurry going on around her. They eventually arrived at hair and make-up, which was thankfully quiet with just Babs pottering about, and he shut the door behind her. 

 

“We can leave if you want,” he said in a low voice, still holding onto her hand. 

 

She shook her head resolutely, already beginning to feel better in the quiet room. “I’ll be fine.” She wasn’t sure if she was reassuring him or herself.

 

Reluctantly, he let go of her hand, allowing her to sit down in one of the chairs. “I’ve got to go to wardrobe, but I’ll come back when I’m ready, ok?”

 

His apparent decision to be her impromptu shadow and caretaker was sweet, even though it annoyed her a bit. Actually, that wasn’t exactly right. It was the fact that she  _ appreciated  _ it so much that annoyed her. She’d been on film sets for years, while he was still in nappies, technically - that stint in Grange Hill had to count even though she’d tried to purge it from memory - and it  _ should  _ be like a second home. It shouldn’t scare her like this.

 

As he left the room, Babs came up behind her, giving her a big smile in the mirror. “Haven’t I missed you,” the older woman exclaimed cheerfully. “Not to mention that glorious  _ hair _ .” She reached out, pulling her fingers through it, and Alex instinctively recoiled, her upper body shooting forward in the chair. 

 

Her face burning, she could barely stand to sit back up and look Babs in the eyes. But when she did, all she saw was a reassuring smile, if with a tinge of sadness at the edges.

 

“Don’t worry sweetheart. I haven’t got the faintest idea what happened while you’ve been gone, but I know no one goes missing like that without a few battle scars. Now, you don’t need to tell me, it’s none of my business, but it would help if you could show me some of those scars, if you know what I mean?” At Alex’s quizzical look, she explained, “just let me know what you’re having issues with, no need to say why, and I’ll try to work around it, honey.”

 

“Oh.” Alex felt her cheeks flush again, and she looked down, avoiding the mirror. “Um, just… touching.”

 

“All right, ok.” Babs went silent for a few moments. “Well unfortunately honey, I  _ am  _ gonna have to touch you. But I’ll be very gentle, and what we’ll do is, I’ll tell you everything I’m going to do before I do it. Do you think that might be ok?”

 

Alex nodded. She didn’t really have much of a choice, but she appreciated the older woman’s words nevertheless. And as it turned out, being aware of  _ exactly  _ what was going to happen at every turn was immensely helpful, and towards the end, she was even beginning to relax and enjoy this rarely found insight into the inner workings of a make-up artist. “Thanks Babs,” she said as she stood up, gathering her things. “I appreciate it. A lot.”

 

“There’s no need honey. We all have our demons, and we don’t always want to talk about them to everyone who asks. It’ll get better, I promise you.” 

 

“Thanks. For… not asking.” Alex looked over at the door. She needed to get to wardrobe, but despite her earlier grumbles, she was reluctant to go back out there by herself. 

 

After a couple minutes of deliberation however, Matt poked his head in the door. “Are you guys ready?”

 

She nodded, biting her lip. “I just need to get to wardrobe. I know you’ve already been…”

 

“I’m just waiting around now,” Matt interjected, “may as well wait around over there, eh?” He gave her an encouraging smile and she, with a quick goodbye to Babs, followed him outside before she could change her mind.

 

The tumult was a bit more bearable the second time but she still grabbed Matt’s hand to steady herself. She knew that things would have to quieten down once they were actually filming, but the amount of people still flustered her.

 

“I spoke to Steven,” Matt whispered to her once they reached wardrobe. “That’s why I took so long. We’re gonna film in the Tardis today, and he’s gonna make sure there’s only the minimum number of people necessary.”

 

She lowered her gaze, pulling her hand away from him. “I didn’t say…”

 

“I know, but I saw how you reacted out there…”

 

“I don’t…” she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I know Matt, but… I don’t want to come across as some kind of primadonna. I’ll deal with it.”

 

He gave her an incredulous look. “I...but… _ what?”  _ He spluttered. “Do you  _ seriously  _ think anyone would think that?”

 

She closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on regulating her breathing.  _ In, out, in, out.  _ “They’ve all been messed around because of me for the past few weeks, I just don’t want to inconvenience everyone even more.”

 

“Alex.” There was an undertone of anger in his voice. “You  _ need  _ to stop this.” He paused, and she thought he must have been able to see the distress on her face because his voice softened. “It’s  _ ok.  _ People here may not know exactly what happened but they aren’t idiots; they know  _ something  _ happened and that you didn’t just go off work for the hell of it. All I ever heard the entire time we were filming without you was  _ concern.  _ Not a single complaint about the changes to the schedule, just worry that you would be ok. They all know what you’re like, they’re not going to think that you’ve come back and… and suddenly turned  _ primadonna. _ So please, Alex. I’m begging you. Let us make this as easy for you as possible, because I know it can’t be. Easy, that is. Please?”

 

She nodded, despite her heart still beating too fast for comfort. He was right, she knew he was, and yet there was this  _ guilt  _ constantly eating her up. “Ok. But please ask me before you make any more arrangements?”

 

He nodded. “Come on, let’s get you in costume.”

 

The ladies in costume had done a great job adjusting her costume for this episode, adding long, wide sleeves that covered her cast entirely. Matt excused himself as she admired their work, needing a touch up from Babs. 

 

“Do you need any help?” Emma, one of the young girls who assisted the costume designers, was glancing at her cast in a way she probably thought was inconspicuous.

 

Alex shook her head. “No, I’ll just…” She nodded towards one of the curtained off changing booths. “Thanks, though.”

 

As she closed the curtain behind her, she let out a deep breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. Ok. This was ok. All she had to do was change. 

 

It was the same costume she’d been wearing for the previous scenes already filmed for this episode - about three lifetimes ago - but now with a loose jacket which ended at her waist and had flaring sleeves wide enough to fit her cast and still have room left over. 

 

Getting into the costume using only one hand wasn’t easy, but she was managing, until it came to the top, which for some reason obviously thought up by someone  _ evil,  _ had buttons. Not simple, big buttons that easily slid into place. No, these were the kind of fiddly buttons you definitely needed two hands for.

 

Not about to give up, she carried on and, after ten minutes, had buttoned two of them. As she began fighting the third one, she heard a voice outside.

 

“Ms Kingston? Are you all right? Are you sure you don’t need any help?” Emma sounded concerned, which for some reason only made Alex more frustrated.

 

“I’m fine,” she replied, biting her lip in concentration.

 

“It will be a lot easier if I help,” the girl insisted. As a hand grabbed the curtain, beginning to pull it back, Alex jumped back with a gasp, accidentally launching herself at the pile of hangers on the wall that were waiting to be collected and returned. What ensued could only be described as a rainfall of hangers, bouncing off her and clattering onto the floor as she attempted to cover her head.

 

“Ms Kingston?” The girl’s voice was back, though she’d let go of the curtain. “Is everything ok?”

 

“Yes, it’s fine,” Alex replied, though she could feel tears burning in the back of her eyes. 

 

“Here, let me.” Another voice took over and she could feel relief wash over her. “Alex, can I come in?”

 

Leaning forward, she tugged at the curtain enough to let him slide into the booth. 

 

“Are you ok?” He eyed the mess of hangers behind her.

 

She nodded. “Yeah, just a bit of an accident.” She had the top pulled tightly together over her chest with her left hand where the buttons had not yet been able to do their job.

 

“You didn’t want them to help you?”

 

She shook her head.

 

He hesitated for a brief moment. “Can  _ I  _ help you?”

 

She paused, her hand clinging tightly to the fabric. Then, she slowly let go, silently nodding her assent.

 

He made quick work of the buttons, then held the jacket out for her. Gratefully, she slid into it, turning to look at herself in the mirror. It was a relief in an odd sort of way, looking at her own reflection and only seeing  _ River.  _ She had always felt like acting was letting another person take over her mind and body but never had she quite needed it like she did now. And, oh, if she could take on the strengths of anyone it would have to be  _ her,  _ gun-toting, crazy, fearless River. She caught herself smiling at herself in the mirror without even realising it herself. 

 

“That’s better, isn’t it?” 

 

She looked up at Matt, grinning at her over her shoulder. “Yeah. It’s good.” 

 

The scene today was a short one, everyone keen to ease her in slowly, much to her frustration (but also - though she’d never admit it - slight relief). She’d been over the script so many times at this point she could probably do it backwards in her sleep. Still, there was no such thing as  _ too  _ prepared.

 

As they approached the Tardis set, her heart rate began to speed up again. The  _ minimum number of people necessary  _ was still a fair crowd, and she was starting to think the confined space might not have been the best idea, but it was too late to say anything  _ now.  _ Matt hovered nearby but eventually had to pull away to take his place as they started the scene.

 

The first few shots, thankfully, only called for her to listen intently to the doctor explaining his plans. Keeping her eyes on Matt, listening to his speech which she now knew by heart, was a good distraction and she focused all her energy into channeling River’s concentrated look. Until one of the camera men stepped up behind her, getting an over-the-shoulder shot of Matt pacing around the console. She yelped and jumped out of the way.

 

“Cut!”

 

Her cheeks burning with mortification, she looked up just in time to see Steven saying something to the director, who nodded silently.

 

“Ok, let’s try that again, and we’ll take the shot from over here.”

 

Matt gave her an encouraging smile and started again. This time the camera man took the shot over Karen’s shoulder. 

 

The second time around though, she found she was having a harder time maintaining River’s cool composure. The man sneaking up behind her - ok, he was  _ filming,  _ not sneaking, but even so - had spooked her, and now she was, no matter how much she was fighting it, on high alert. She couldn’t pay attention to the others speaking their lines, too busy keeping track of all the people in the room and trying to  _ resist  _ looking over her shoulder every two seconds. So when it came to her line, she nearly missed her cue, came in late and stumbled through the words, her voice shaking and decidedly  _ hers,  _ not River’s. 

 

At that point, she fully expected the director to yell cut, but he let the scene continue as she barely made it through the rest of her lines with about as much finesse as an eight year old playing a sheep in the school nativity play.

 

“Ok, that was a good first take, but take five and let’s try again,” he announced when the scene was finally over.

 

She looked at him in disbelief. What exactly had Steven  _ told  _ him? As everyone relaxed a little, downing tools, she leaned back against the Tardis console, bowing her head and drawing in deep breaths, trying not to cry.

 

“Hey,” Matt sidled up to her. “That wasn’t too bad.”

 

She snorted. “Are you kidding me?”

 

“Look, just… don’t expect too much too soon, ok? You’re  _ here,  _ you’re  _ trying. _ You’ve come a hell of a long way from that hospital bed I found you in.”

 

It wasn’t a pleasant memory nor something she wanted to think about right now, but he had a point. If she could make it from not being able to speak for fear of panic attacks, then surely she would get past this as well.

 

“Ok, places!” 

 

Matt smiled at her before going back to his starting point. She watched as his face almost  _ morphed,  _ the doctor taking his place, and felt a stab of jealousy. She’d  _ never  _ had a problem doing that, it was something that had come so naturally, even in her very early days of drama school. Until now.

 

This time she didn’t miss her cue, but her lines felt stilted, mechanical. She just couldn’t let River take over; every time she tried, something pulled her back, movement in the corner of her eye, noises behind her. She was on high alert, and at least 50% of her attention was  _ not  _ on the scene. Two hours and several takes later, she was absolutely exhausted, the anxiety tingling through her body so fast it was making it difficult to breathe. She needed to collapse on the floor and run a marathon at the same time.

 

“Ok,” Steven stepped in. “I think we’ve got enough material for now. Let’s pick up tomorrow.”

 

She wanted to protest, but what was the point? There was no way she was suddenly going to start performing better  _ now;  _ may as well give up and let everyone go home.

 

“It will get better,” Matt mumbled into her hair. “Actually, I think there were a couple of takes that were fairly decent. Usable, even.”

 

She shrugged. She preferred that he didn’t mince his words - the last thing she wanted was to be told she was fabulous when she wasn’t - but at the same time being told  _ a couple of takes  _ were possibly  _ usable  _ wasn’t exactly what she wanted to hear at this stage of her career. “I’m going to change.”

 

“Do you need any help?”

 

She hesitated. It was usually easier to  _ unbutton,  _ but she wasn’t sure she had the energy to be patient and not just rip them out - she’d been enough of a nuisance for one day without making the costume department mend her mess as well. “Ok. I mean, yeah, maybe.”

 

“I mean, I’m kind of going that way anyway,” he joked.

 

Letting him unbutton her sent all kinds of weird feelings flying through her. Not sexual - far from it, however it may have  _ looked,  _ she was nowhere near being in that place. No, instead it was a place of safety, like she could trust him with herself, something that wasn’t easy these days - to say the least. It occurred to her that he was probably the only person she could allow to touch her without panicking. It wasn’t that she thought the costume girls or the camera guys would  _ hurt  _ her, but human contact of any kind scared the hell out of her. Except his. Matt’s hands were the only ones that didn’t make her think of  _ his  _ hands. His presence the only one that wasn’t, in some way, threatening.

 

She wasn’t sure what to think of that.

 

They rode back in silence, and she didn’t even protest when he automatically followed her back to her flat, beginning to root through the cupboards for something to eat. “How are you feeling?”

 

She chuckled, humourlessly. “A bit like I just got run over by a truck.”

 

He hummed a non-committal response. “Should have seen me trying to do scenes when you were… well, you know, still missing. I was awful.”

 

She didn’t answer.

 

“It’s hard, when there’s something else always on your mind,” he continued.

 

“When does it get better?”

 

He stopped in his tracks, paused for a moment, looking for an answer. “I don’t… I mean, you came back, so…” With a sigh, he sat down next to her on the sofa. “But it will. One day, you’ll go there, and you’ll just be her. You won’t even realise it’s happening, you’ll just stand there and  _ boom!  _ There it is.”

 

She couldn’t help but smile at him; his endless optimism, no matter what. They sat like that for a few moments, neither of them saying anything until she looked down, realising that at some point their fingers had interlaced, grabbing each other as though they’d never done anything else and she sighed.

 

Maybe he was right.


	9. Ropes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She hasn’t asked him to take on the role of de facto caretaker. She hadn’t asked him for anything. He had to keep reminding himself that this was something he’d chosen, and he didn’t have the right to expect anything. As hard as it was to watch her make what was, in his opinion, the wrong decisions; they were her decisions.

It was early. Too early. Matt rubbed his eyes. He didn’t normally have to go to the very early starts, but Alex’s hair took forever and he’d made an excuse for why he needed to go in as well, despite his hair taking about two minutes. To top it all off, once Babs had finished with them all, there was some kind of technical error and they were all left waiting around anyway. 

 

Arthur was off smoking, Karen had her head on the table - possibly asleep - and Alex was staring at her hands, fiddling restlessly with her sleeves.

 

He’d suggested she could stay in her dressing room while they waited, but frustratingly she’d turned him down. He knew that she wanted things to be as normal as possible, to prove to everyone - or, more likely, herself - that she could still function. But things were  _ not  _ normal, and watching her sitting there so tense, wide eyes nervously darting across the room every so often, wincing if someone came near her… it made him frustrated.

 

He had no right to be, he knew that. But sometimes it felt as though, in her attempts to get back in the saddle, she was going straight for the grand national when she could barely manage to keep her feet in the stirrups. She’d explained to him her need to get her life back, to not let  _ him  _ control her any longer and he understood; he really did. But there’d never been anything wrong with slow and steady.

 

“Oh, look, craft services are here!” Karen’s head shot up, apparently not asleep after all. “Thank god, I was beginning to think after all of this they weren’t even going to feed us.”

 

Matt felt his own stomach rumble. He’d grabbed some toast very, very early that morning but it was coming up to ten and that was  _ hours  _ ago. He stood up, along with Karen who was already rushing over to the newly set up table.

 

He paused. “Do you want anything?”

 

Alex lifted her head, looking slightly dazed as though she’d completely missed what was going on. “What?” She looked behind her. “Oh...right. I might get some tea in a minute.”

 

He shifted from one foot to the other, trying to figure out what to say, or whether to say anything at all. He was concerned about her eating; even though he thought it had improved a bit since she’d left the hospital, he was still fairly certain she was running on a pretty hefty deficit. It wasn’t that he was unsympathetic; he understood  _ why _ , but her priorities exasperated him sometimes. Eating and sleeping regularly should come, in his opinion,  _ before  _ all the other stuff she insisted on conquering.

 

Sighing heavily - and not discreetly - he went over to get himself a couple of sandwiches. In a sudden rush of spontaneity, he grabbed a second plate and put a sandwich on there as well. Walking back to the table, he put the plate in front of Alex. “Eat,” he said, a little brusquely. 

 

She looked up at him, eyes wide in surprise. Even though he often brought her food he’d  _ never  _ pushed the subject, not since that first day back from hospital. “Thanks, um, I…” her voice was little more than a whisper. Karen and Arthur, who had returned from his smoke break, uncomfortably looked away, pretending not to hear. “Um, I’m not really hungry right now, but…”

 

He knew he shouldn’t, but he was tired and annoyed, and yes, justifiably or not, he was angry. “Alex, you can’t keep starving yourself. I know it’s not easy,” he admitted, “but if you can’t handle that you shouldn’t be  _ here.  _ You  _ have  _ to eat.” He tried to keep his voice calm despite the frustration bubbling up inside him. 

 

She looked at him blankly, but he could see her hand, barely peeking out from the wide sleeve of her costume, was shaking. Abruptly, she stood up. “I’m just gonna...um…” her eyes were downcast and it wasn’t clear to whom she was speaking. Maybe it didn’t matter. “Gonna go back to my dressing room for a bit.” Head down, she quickly walked off, leaving her sandwich untouched on the table.

 

Matt sat down, burying his face in his hands. “Don’t,” he warned.

 

They managed to stay silent for a whole minute. “Look, mate…” Arthur’s voice sounded somehow sympathetic and admonishing at the same time. “I get you. I do. But…”

 

He sighed. “But what?”

 

“But… maybe you’ve got to take a step back. Emotionally, I mean.”

 

“I’m not sure I understand.”

 

“I just think you’re... I don’t know, taking it  _ personally  _ I guess. I mean, you care, a lot, and you’ve  _ really  _ been there for her, don’t get me wrong. It’s great, it really is. But, you know…” he shifted uncomfortably. “You’re also not her doctor, or her psychiatrist. You can’t put yourself in that role, for both of your sakes.”

 

“I wasn’t,” he protested.

 

“Kinda were,” Karen chimed in.

 

“The thing is,” Arthur continued, “I think because you’re so involved, and you spend a lot of time caring for her, you’re sort of taking it as a personal slight if she’s not doing what you think she should do to get better.”

 

He groaned. “I just get frustrated. She wants to get back to normal, but she’s pushing herself  _ so  _ hard to be in these situations that make the anxiety and panic worse when I know she isn’t even eating and sleeping properly  _ because  _ of those things. I mean, am I crazy to think that should be a priority?”

 

“No,” Arthur replied calmly, “but taking it  _ personally  _ is what’s crazy. And I know it’s only because you care, but getting angry about it means you probably need to check your own emotional investment, you know? It’s one thing to care about her recovery and another to start treating it like it belongs to you.”

 

“Maybe you need a break,” Karen suggested.

 

His head shot up. “A break from  _ what _ ?”

 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “A break from worrying, I guess? Maybe...Arthur and I can worry for a bit?”

 

He sighed. If only he  _ could _ . “No, I just… you’re right. I need to leave the doctoring to the doctors. The real ones, I mean.” It was a hard balance to strike. Worry, but not too much. Encourage, but don’t push. Care, but don’t care so much it hurts. Of course, he was on the wrong end of the spectrum for all of them. A  _ break  _ would be a good idea, but impossible; even if he checked out right now, let Karen and Arthur do all the worrying, well… he’d just worry even more. He  _ knew  _ he needed to back off, but it was as though sometimes he had all the patience in the world and sometimes he had none. 

 

She hasn’t asked him to take on the role of de facto caretaker. She hadn’t asked him for anything. He had to keep reminding himself that this was something he’d chosen, and he didn’t have the right to expect anything. As hard as it was to watch her make what was, in his opinion, the wrong decisions; they were  _ her  _ decisions. 

 

“I should apologise,” he muttered.

 

“Give her a bit of time,” Karen suggested. “She might just need to be alone for a bit.”

 

As it turned out, there wasn’t much time. As they were called to start filming, he looked around for Alex. He wanted to make sure she was ok, but she seemed to be avoiding him and before he could get close to her, they were ready for the scene.

 

Once he’d started, slipping on his character’s persona wasn’t any harder than usual, except perhaps the Doctor was looking towards River a little more than the scene called for. It didn’t really matter though, as Alex seemed to be struggling getting into character. In the past few days she had improved, getting more comfortable on the set, but now it looked as though she was right back to square one.

 

It hurt to think that it could be his fault. 

 

“Ok, cut.” There was clear exasperation in the director’s voice. “Let’s take it from the top.”

 

He looked over at Alex, wondering if he might get a moment to speak to her. But her gaze was locked on something behind him. Curious, he turned around.

 

He couldn’t see anything of note. The only thing there was one of the beams holding the cameras which had broken - part of the technical difficulties - and tightly tied back on with a piece of rope. 

 

“Alex?” He stepped a bit closer, frowning. Her face was expressionless and she didn’t seem to be reacting. “Are you ok?”

 

She didn’t answer, but took a few step back, her eyes still staring blankly ahead. This caused her to bump into one of the stagehands, and she let out a shriek, retreating to the nearest wall and sinking down onto the floor.

 

Everyone seemed to go silent, uncertainly keeping their distance. Matt took a deep breath and started slowly walking towards her. 

 

She was still staring blankly into space, flinching every now and then as though something was touching her. 

 

He felt panic begin to well up in his chest. “Alex, what’s going on?” Kneeling in front of her, he tried to catch her attention.

 

Quietly, she whispered: “no...no...no.” He was right in front of her but it was as if she didn’t  _ see  _ him.

 

And then, it just stopped. He could see it happen, her eyes suddenly focused, confusion written all over her face as she gasped for air. Finally she was looking at him, and he could see his own fearfulness reflected in her eyes.

 

“It’s ok, it’s ok,” he tried to soothe her, even though he had no  _ idea  _ if it was.

 

She stood up, her legs shaking, avoiding looking at anyone. “I’ve got to…” Head bent, she quickly walked off the set.

 

For a second, he debated whether to follow her. Maybe she didn’t want him to, not after what he’d said earlier. 

 

_ Shit. _

 

Was it  _ because  _ of what he’d said earlier? He couldn’t quite figure out how, but then, he couldn’t figure out  _ any  _ of this. 

 

“Screw it,” he muttered to himself and took off after her. Despite his own guilt, he couldn’t leave her alone like this.

 

He found her in her dressing room, sitting in a corner on the floor. As he entered, she immediately looked up.

 

“Don’t, Matt.” Her voice was rough, hoarse. “I can’t right now.”

 

“It’s ok. We don’t have to talk about it,” he tried. “I just wanted to see if… I don’t know, if you needed something.”

 

There was silence for several minutes. Then, suddenly; “how bad was it?”

 

He sat down on the floor next to her, a respectable distance between them. “What do you mean?”

 

She closed her eyes, her body slumping forwards. “What everyone saw. What did I do?”

 

“It doesn’t matter, Alex.”

 

She gave him a sharp look.

 

He sighed. “I guess it looked kind of like you weren’t there. You sort of… I don’t know, checked out? It was as if you couldn’t see me when I was right in front of you.”

 

She didn’t reply, just curled further into herself.

 

“Was that what happened?” he ventured, knowing he was on thin ice. 

 

Again, she didn’t reply.

 

He sighed. “Come on, I think we should get you home.”

 

She shook her head. “I’ll be fine, just… give me a minute.”

 

He opened his mouth, then quickly closed it again. He didn’t want to overstep. Again. “All right,” he conceded softly.

 

They sat quietly for what was probably about twenty minutes, the only sound being Alex’s shaky breathing. Then, she abruptly pulled herself up. “Ok, I’m ready.” Her face looked anything but ready. She looked  _ exhausted,  _ as though she would collapse any second. He just hoped she knew what she was doing, because any protests from him would  _ not  _ be welcome.

 

She stopped just before they walked back onto set, and he could see the mask slip into place. Her face shifted, the fearful look all but eradicated to all but those who could just about see through it. “Ok, let’s try that again,” she said to no one in particular, stepping into place as if nothing had happened.

 

He sighed and took his own place. All he could really do was wait this out.

 

*

 

Several hours later, the director had  _ finally  _ called it, and he felt no end of relief, because  _ he  _ could see through her carefully crafted exterior, and she was  _ not  _ handling it. Her acting was fine, sure, which was probably why they didn’t call it sooner, but between every shot, he could see it. Her eyes briefly closing, her breath speeding up, the way she immediately searched for something to lean on. Her hands would be grasping for anything to hold onto, as though it was the only thing pinning her down.

 

She was grounding herself.

 

In one of her more open moments, she had told him about this technique, about finding ways to stay connected to reality when she felt herself slipping too far into panic. To find sounds, sights, textures and sensations to focus on, to remind her what was real and where she was.

 

The fact she had to keep doing it between every take concerned him and as they pulled up outside the flats, he couldn’t help wanting to asking the question that had been playing on his mind all day.

 

“Hey.” He stopped her in the corridor once they were alone, once Karen and Arthur has disappeared off to their flats. “I just wanted to say… I’m really sorry about earlier.”

 

“Oh.” She looked at him briefly before dropping her gaze to the floor. “It’s ok. I get it.”

 

“Still, I… I shouldn’t have.” He paused for a second, gathering courage. “Was that why you… I mean, was it my fault?”

 

She looked up at him, genuine surprise on her face. Then she shook her head. “No. No, it wasn’t that. It wasn’t you.”

 

He shifted uncomfortably, relieved that at least it hadn’t been him, but still wanting to know; then  _ what _ ? “Do you know what it was?”

 

She sighed. “The ropes. It’s really stupid, but I just saw the ropes and I…” She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

 

_ Leave it _ , he told himself sternly. “It’s ok, we don’t have to talk about it. Take-away and rubbish telly?” He attempted a smile as he described their recent after-work ritual. 

 

To his surprise, she shook her head, her gaze flickering, avoiding him. “No, I… I’m kind of tired. I think I’m just going to go to bed.”

 

“Oh.” He wasn’t sure what to say. “Um, ok. You gonna be ok?”

 

She nodded quickly, but was already beginning to walk away from him. He stood there, arms helplessly hanging by his sides, until the sound of her steps had completely subsided and her door slammed shut behind her, shutting him out.

 

He returned to his flat, sinking down on the sofa, staring blankly at the switched off telly. As much as he’d been there for  _ her,  _ it had become a comforting habit for him as well, and now he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. It was barely gone seven, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to bed. Neither, he suspected, was she.

 

She might have  _ got it,  _ but it most definitely wasn’t ok.

  
  
  



	10. 7.00 - 8.30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, he’d broken that promise, too busy trying to fix everything and breaking it in the process. As he pushed the phone to his ear, he wondered if he had just stopped for a moment, had a good look at the situation, at himself, if he could have handled it better.

As soon as Alex closed the door behind her, she allowed her carefully crafted mask to slip away, sinking down to the floor with her back against the heavy wood that protected her from the outside. Except, it didn’t, not really. Not when the outside was right  _ there,  _ in her own head. 

 

She couldn’t escape, and that had never been so clear as it was today.

 

Her therapist, a lovely, soft-spoken lady who looked a bit like she should be in school but somehow still managed to make Alex talk about  _ everything,  _ had gently hinted that flashbacks were a possibility, but until now she’d never experienced one.

 

It was a lot worse than she’d imagined.

 

Nightmares were bad enough, but this… part of her wondered what the point was of ever having been rescued if he could still force his way into her head, if she could be back  _ there  _ at any given moment. She’d never lost her grip on reality like that before, and it terrified her. 

 

She’d felt compelled to use her grounding techniques for as long as she was on that set, not really because she needed to, but mainly out of fear; to prevent anything else happening. Especially knowing the ropes were still there and wondering what  _ else  _ could throw her back into that room again. It was ropes, for God’s sake. Such a mundane, everyday object. 

 

Something wet hit her hand, and with surprise, she realised she was crying. Well, it wasn’t exactly the first thing she’d done without her own consent - or knowledge - today. Still, sitting by the door, still in her coat and shoes, sobbing… it certainly felt like she was moving in the wrong direction.

 

_ Don’t push yourself so hard _ , a voice in her head that sounded a lot like Matt whispered soothingly. She rubbed her eyes. She didn’t particularly want him in her head either after that morning. 

 

It wasn’t that she was angry with him, not really. No, like with pretty much everything these days, she was afraid.

 

He was too invested, and she would hurt him. She couldn’t not _ ,  _ because everything she  _ was  _ at the moment was hurting him. He was getting angry, and she could understand it. She frustrated herself, and today had only solidified to her that things were not getting any better. She felt perhaps they wouldn’t,  _ ever _ , and all she’d do to the people who cared too much was drag them down with her. 

 

Even when she wasn’t like  _ this,  _ everyone left her eventually. It was inevitable. And she wasn’t sure she could watch him give up on her, throw his arms in the air and walk away. Or worse, cling onto that stubbornness that seemed to radiate from him these days, and  _ stay.  _ Destroy everything that made him who he was, just trying to cope with her.

 

No. He’d done too much already. More than anyone could expect from a friend, hell, even from  _ family.  _ She had to set some boundaries to prevent him devoting all his time and energy to a lost cause. It was for his sake really, she reasoned. He was young and successful, at that stage of his life where he should be careless and having fun, and  _ someone  _ had to step in. Even if that someone was her, and even if, in the short term, she was terrified to do so. He’d been a comfort to her, and she didn’t really want to think about how she’d cope with all of this alone.

 

But at the end of the day, she  _ was  _ alone. No one else could go with her to the places she went. No one could be  _ in her head _ , which she honestly wouldn’t want to, because  _ fuck _ , why would she want to torture anyone like that? 

 

She shook her head resolutely to herself. Thinking back on the day, on how she felt and, more importantly, how she made other people feel, she  _ had  _ to stop relying on him - or anyone else - so much. Even from a selfish point of view, she couldn’t shake the need to show constant improvement, that instinct to  _ please  _ that had caused her so much trouble throughout her entire life. And now… well, any step backwards, or even standing still, made her feel this immense sense of guilt. Because it wasn’t just about her,  _ his  _ happiness and sense of comfort relied on her progress and as much as she had benefited from his help, that pressure was too much. 

 

She hadn’t realised, or maybe just hadn’t admitted it to herself, until that morning. But what he’d said to her… it hadn’t been fair exactly, but even if it had, it wasn’t the point, because she could see the  _ frustration  _ and she’d realised it wasn’t just about her anymore. He’d become too tightly wound up in her, and she should never have allowed that to happen. 

 

Her certainty had only deepened after the flashback she couldn’t control - which in itself terrified her - and how she’d immediately wondered afterwards how it would affect  _ him.  _ Even though her thinking wasn’t exactly the most rational at the time, she could tell it shouldn’t be like that. It wasn’t his fault. He was just trying so hard, and she’d let him. She’d let him make her his  _ project,  _ because it was nice, and comforting, but she couldn’t do it anymore. It wasn’t good for either of them.

 

It made her jump when her phone suddenly went off and, with shaking hands, she removed it from her pocket.

 

Salome.

 

_ Shit.  _ She’d forgotten about their Skype date.

 

Pressing the answer button, she closed her eyes, hoping her voice wouldn’t betray her. “Hi sweetheart. I’m sorry, I’m just running a little bit late, I’ll call you in a minute, ok?”

 

Hanging up, she quickly took her coat off and dashed to the bathroom. A look in the mirror confirmed her fears; her face was all red and blotchy from crying. She splashed it with cold water a few times, which didn’t seem to make much of a difference.

 

Well. Thank God for blurry webcams.

 

No matter how crappy she was feeling, she couldn’t miss a date with her daughter, even if it was only talking over a computer. She’d already let her down so much and she  _ missed  _ her. It felt as though she hadn’t seen her for ages, but at the same time she had to admit to herself that Skype was probably about as much as she could manage at the moment. The ten-year-old had no idea what she’d been through, what she was still going through, and nor should she. But keeping the pretence up full time… well, Alex wasn’t sure she could do it.

 

“Hi honey.” She couldn’t help but smile - genuinely - when she saw her daughter on the screen. “How have you been? How’s school?”

 

Listening to Salome chat away about her friends and classes, and oh, it was just so  _ normal,  _ was already making her feel a bit better. 

 

“So how are you mummy?” Her daughter asked once she’d finished the rather long story about her day.

 

“Oh, I’m fine sweetheart. Just working a lot, as usual, you know?” She smiled.

 

“Is your arm getting better?”

 

Alex nodded. “Yes, I think so. I only have another week before they take the cast off.”

 

The young girl looked thoughtful for a second, biting her lip in the exact same way Alex did when she was uncertain or worried about something and it caused a wave of anxiety to flow through her. “So…” her small voice was hesitant. “Are you coming home soon?”

 

“Oh, sweetheart.” She didn’t know what to say. The doctors had not approved her for any travel unless appropriate care was set up prior to leaving, not to mention she  _ couldn’t  _ keep up this facade being around her daughter all the time and she certainly wasn’t ready to explain her mental state. Well, it was more about Salome being too young to  _ hear  _ it. It wasn’t fair though, she’d already been gone longer than planned and Salome deserved to have her mother around.

 

_ A mother that’s  _ **_worth_ ** _ having around _ , her own mind reminded her. 

 

No, none of this was fair.

 

“Sweetheart, we’re still filming for a bit longer and the doctors haven’t said it’s ok for me to fly so far yet,” she explained.

 

Salome looked up, alarm in her eyes. “I thought you were getting better?”

 

“I am, of course I am, darling,” she reassured her, not honestly sure whether she was being truthful or not. “It’s just the head stuff is tricky, you know? They want to be a hundred percent sure everything’s ok.” It wasn’t technically a lie, although the “head stuff” Salome thought she was talking about was quite different from reality. Florian had explained the long radio silence, firstly from when she’d been in  _ that place  _ and after that, when she didn’t talk, as being unconscious due to head injury after an accident.

 

“Dad says I can’t go over because of school,” the girl pouted. “He’s being so mean.”

 

Alex felt a jolt of affection - or at least gratefulness - for her ex-husband. It was kind of him, really, to blame school and make himself the bad guy when he knew Alex couldn’t handle a visit right now. Oh she  _ wanted  _ one, so badly. But she had to think of what was best for Salome, and being faced with a mother who screamed in the middle of the night and could at any point have a panic attack or - God forbid - a flashback was  _ not  _ it. She knew at some point, if things didn’t improve drastically, she may have to explain to her daughter what had happened - leaving out some detail of course. But not yet. “He’s just thinking of what’s best for you honey, you know that. And I’m crazy busy trying to finish up this block, you’d barely see me anyway.”

 

Salome just sighed.

 

“Hey, it won’t be long, ok?” She could feel the anxiety building up again and forced a smile on her face. “Come on. Why don’t I give you some spoilers on this last episode?”

 

That did it. She knew her daughter could not resist the spoilers Alex was usually so tight-lipped about. After a little while discussing the episode, Salome was grinning and bouncing in her seat again.

 

“Oh yeah.” After about an hour or so of chatting, she looked over her shoulder at something off the screen. “Um, dad wanted to talk to you as well.”

 

Alex felt herself tense up. It wasn’t that talking to Florian was usually so bad, but it could be a little uncomfortable sometimes and she really wasn’t in a good place to talk to  _ anyone  _ right now; Salome being the only possible exception. “All right,” she replied hesitantly.

 

The girl gave her a confused look as she slid out of the chair, obviously having noticed her change in demeanour. Damn. That was not good. She plastered a smile on her face as her ex-husband - technically still husband - came into view.

 

“Hello, Alex.” She was surprised to see he looked a little nervous as well. “How are you doing?”

 

“I’m fine,” she replied. Fleetingly, she considered just how often she was using that phrase, and how often it was a lie. “How are you?”

 

“I…” he shook his head. “I’m fine. But really, how are you doing?”

 

She wasn’t doing this. “Fine. It’s all going ok.”

 

He sighed. “Alex, I know I’m probably the last person you want to speak to about this and… and I’m not going to make you. But, you know, I do still care. The stuff that happened to you, well, I was…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

 

“It’s not you.” She closed her eyes for a second, gathering her thoughts. “Honestly, I’m not great at this  _ how are you  _ thing with anyone.”

 

“I get it.” He nodded. “And I definitely don’t want to push but… I need to know how to handle this, with Salome. There’s only so long I can blame school and head injuries. Do you think…?” He gave her a look and she knew what he meant, she just really didn’t want to think about it.

 

“I don’t know, Flo. How do you even explain something like this?”

 

“No idea. But we’ve got to consider that maybe we’re going to have to. Some sort of censored version I suppose but, well, that’s why I need to know how you are, really. So I can start thinking about what we should tell her.”

 

“Ok.” Alex nodded. “Well, it’s… it’s not good,” she admitted, feeling tears beginning to burn her eyes. “Um, I don’t really want to go into detail but I don’t think it’s going to blow over.”

 

“I figured not,” he mumbled. “I mean, it’s inevitable after something like…  _ shit,  _ Alex, I know there were crazy people out there, I saw some of those fan letters you used to get on ER, but not in a million years did I think anyone would…”

 

“Flo, please,” she interrupted him, shaking her head. “Just… don’t.”

 

“I’m sorry. Of course you don’t… I’m sorry.”

 

“Thanks.” She wasn’t sure what else to say. “Maybe it’s best if we leave it for now, at least until I get back. I’d rather she didn’t have to worry.”

 

He nodded. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Alex… take care of yourself, all right?” He gave her a meaningful look.

 

“Yeah, all right.” She had to admit, he probably knew better than anyone how bad she was at doing that, throwing herself into work or  _ anything  _ that didn’t mean having to confront her feelings. Hell, it was probably what had killed their marriage in the first place. “Kiss Salome from me,” she added before ending the call, finding herself staring at a blank screen. 

 

It was so silent now, and  _ dark.  _ Suddenly feeling very uncomfortable, Alex quickly got up and turned on the lights. Matt’s earlier words echoed in her head and, reluctantly, she made her way to the kitchen. He was right, of course, she had to eat but what he didn’t understand was that the constant anxiety made it difficult. Nothing tasted good anymore, she always felt sick and like there was a lump in her throat that didn’t want to let anything go down. She’d never been very particular about food, but she’d enjoyed it as much as anyone; right now, eating was just an exercise of getting something down as quickly and painlessly as possible.

 

Like most things, really.

 

After forcing down a tin of soup and trying to swallow the nausea that welled up in her throat, she wasn’t sure what to do. Or, more accurately, there was nothing she wanted to do. This problem was usually solved by Matt deciding on something, but he wasn’t here and the anxiety was building up stronger and stronger the longer she sat, staring at nothing, waiting for the day to end.

 

Eventually she stood up, grabbed a couple of sleeping pills and crawled into bed, ignoring the insistence of the clock on the bedside table that it was only 8.30. Tightly hugging the pillow she closed her eyes, pretending everything would feel better in the morning.

 

*

 

It was only 8.30 and he already felt like he’d been sitting in his flat for  _ hours.  _

 

When had he forgotten how to be alone? He missed having her presence, always there, even if she didn’t say or do much. And the worry, well, that only got worse with her absence. He couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened that day, and what if it happened again when no one was there? What if she hurt herself, thinking she was in another place?

 

For a brief moment he wondered if he should try to get hold of her doctors, ask them what to do, before realising what an inappropriate idea that was. He wasn’t family, he wasn’t  _ anything  _ except some kind of self appointed shadow. None of this was technically his responsibility, or  _ right  _ for that matter.

 

That only made him feel worse.

 

He picked up his phone, intending to call Karen, but as he opened his contacts, he instead found himself pressing his mum’s number. His mind went back to that awful time, when he’d poured his heart out and she’d made him promise to tell her what was going on with him.

 

Well, he’d broken that promise, too busy trying to fix everything and breaking it in the process. As he pushed the phone to his ear, he wondered if he had just stopped for a moment, had a good look at the situation, at  _ himself _ , if he could have handled it better.

 

“Matt! How nice to hear from you.” He couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or not. 

 

“I know I haven’t been in touch, I’m sorry.” His voice was quivering slightly.

 

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

 

He wasn’t sure where to start. “It’s… I think I’m just overdoing the whole  _ being there _ thing. And I think I’m screwing it all up.”

 

“Oh Matt…” he could almost  _ hear  _ the smile in her voice. “You can’t screw up being there for someone.”

 

“Well, I think I can,” he dryly remarked. 

 

“You didn’t…” she paused. “When we spoke before you said about...having  _ feelings.  _ You didn’t try to…”

 

“Jesus, no! That would be… no. I just think… I might be pushing too hard, I try not to, but it’s like I can see things she can’t and I get frustrated and then I… I _ push. _ And I don’t know how to stop it.”

 

“Well,” she spoke slowly, deliberately. “I think you might need to take it from the beginning, honey.”

 

It was difficult, but somehow cathartic to explain what had happened to Alex, how he’d tried to help, the worries he had about her and what had happened earlier that day. When he’d finished, he found he’d started crying, but almost in relief at just getting it all  _ out.  _ “And after that, well, I think she’s pushing me away. And that’s… fine, I mean I have no  _ right  _ to be there but… I just don’t know how to deal with the worry. I worry  _ all  _ the time, and I can’t turn it off. I honestly don’t even know if I want to, because if I don’t worry does that mean I don’t care?”

 

“Oh honey, of course not. But it’s hard, you know. You can’t make yourself stop worrying when you care and when… well, when there  _ is  _ a lot to be worried about. But it sounds like you’ve done a lot, and you certainly have nothing to be ashamed of. I know it sounds awful, but you may even feel some kind of… relief.”

 

“About what?”

 

“Maybe this is an opportunity to take some time for yourself,” she suggested. “To  _ not  _ have to worry all the time.”

 

He gave a frustrated sigh. “No, no. I don’t  _ want  _ that. And if I’m not there, I just worry even more. What if something happens, and I’m not there?”

 

“Matt, she is a grown woman,” she interjected sharply. “A fair bit more grown than you, even. And I’m worried about you. You don’t sound like yourself.”

 

“Of course I’m not!” he shouted. “Sorry.” He lowered his voice again. “I  _ love  _ her, and… and she’s  _ broken. _ ” He wanted to take back the words as soon as he’d said them. “No… no, she’s not. I didn’t mean that. I just… I just want her to be ok.”

 

“I know, I know honey. But… are you sure this is what you want to do, because it’s going to be very hard and, well, she may never return your feelings.”

 

He winced. He knew it, but hearing it was…  _ cold.  _ “Yes,” he replied flatly, feeling a rising resentment at the implication. “Yes, I’m sure.”

 

Without waiting for her to reply, he hung up, threw his phone on the sofa and walked into the bedroom. Pulling his jeans off he collapsed on the bed, pulling the covers over him, telling himself things would feel better in the morning.


	11. Scene 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She had long since turned off the clock that taunted her with angry red letters, but it would have informed her it was 7.30pm and she should be up. She didn’t need anything else admonishing her.

“How does that feel?”

 

Alex looked down at her arm, tentatively twisting and moving it around. It felt weird without the cast. Lighter. Not just physically, but losing the physical reminder made it a little easier to breathe. She nodded. “Good. Thanks.”

 

The doctor smiled. “Everything’s looking great, but if you experience any problems please let us know.”

 

Well, it wasn’t as if it would be out of her way. She felt as though she was there every five minutes seeing the therapist anyway. She forced a smile on her face. “Sure.” As soon as the door closed, her steps sped up. She hated being in the hospital. It reminded her of those first few days when everything had been so much  _ worse.  _ The therapist’s office was in a separate building and she could go around the back to avoid the main hospital altogether, but this was too close for comfort.

 

The car was waiting outside to take her to set. She felt endlessly grateful for it as she slipped inside, unsure if she could have handled a taxi driven by a stranger. She probably could have managed walking, but the appointment had fallen in the middle of the workday and the hospital was a good 40 minute stroll from the studios. She hadn’t wanted to ask everyone to wait for two hours minimum so it had been quite a relief when Steven had offered a car to take her.

 

Karen immediately ran towards her with a grin as she entered the main studios. “It’s off!” She shouted.

 

Alex winced at the sudden loud noise. She admired the younger woman’s enthusiasm, certainly, but she had a  _ deafening  _ screech. “Yes, finally,” she agreed in a somewhat quieter tone. 

 

“How does it feel?”

 

“Light.” 

 

She was suddenly distracted by Matt entering her field of vision, walking up towards them slowly. They hadn’t spoken much for the past week. It wasn’t as though they were  _ fighting,  _ no, everything was very civil, polite. Very  _ professional. _

 

In other words, incredibly awkward and uncomfortable.

 

She hadn’t said anything to him about wanting to cut down the time they spent together, but after a couple of days of avoiding accepting his help - and company - he seemed to have got the message. She hoped he didn’t think it was his fault or that she was angry with him, but she was so far from having the energy to explain to him where she was coming from - not to mention the argument that would inevitably ensue. She didn’t want and, frankly, couldn’t afford any emotional triggers, not with everything that was going on.

 

So she’d left it. And they hadn’t really talked after that. Now he was walking up to her, looking at her arm with a small smile. “Looks better,” he commented.

 

“Thanks,” she glanced up at him, meeting his gaze. “Feels better.”

 

He nodded, looking at her uncertainly. For a moment she thought he was about to say something, but then he seemed to change his mind, closing his mouth abruptly.

 

She really wished it didn’t have to be so awkward between them. Even Karen seemed to be picking up on the uncomfortable atmosphere as she stood, nervously looking back and forth between the two of them.

 

It was quite a relief - for all of them, she believed - when they were called to shoot. It was definitely easier to get fully into River Song mode without the cast being a hindrance, and she imagined it was a lot easier technically speaking as well, not having to constantly take it into consideration with directions and camera angles. 

 

She could see Matt throwing concerned glances at her between shots and tried to ignore it the best she could. Of course she knew  _ why,  _ after the spectacle she’d put everyone through the previous week. Thankfully it hadn’t happened again. Well, not on set, anyway. The flashbacks that happened when she was alone she’d filed in the same place as the nightmares -  _ things no one needs to know about _ . If she couldn’t  _ be  _ ok, at least she could make sure others believed she was and, well, it was better than nothing. 

 

Maybe  _ she  _ would even believe it eventually.

 

In the long waiting times between shooting she fled into her dressing room, grateful for the opportunity to calm herself down and have a moment away from the crowded set. It was hard, and she was annoyed with herself because it was  _ still  _ hard, but she couldn’t stop the compulsion to track  _ every single person  _ around her, and it was exhausting. 

 

Also, she kept what she’d started to call her “panic pills” in the dressing room. She used them seldomly, as they made her drowsy and a little lightheaded which made performance difficult, but somehow just knowing they were there  _ in case  _ of a panic attack she couldn’t manage; well, it was comforting in itself. 

 

She had just closed her eyes, beginning the breathing exercises the therapist had taught her when a loud knock on the door made her jump and her heart begin to pound faster. Great.

 

“Ms Kingston, you’re back on.” The runner looked at her tentatively through the small opening of the door before turning around, quickly dashing off again.

 

She sighed and got up. She’d hoped to have more time. When she didn’t do her breathing exercises she usually found everything just that bit more difficult. Still, she knew they were already cutting her a huge amount of slack. She was in  _ every  _ take due to all the time she’d missed, and from all her experience with film sets she knew that under those kind of circumstances, normally she’d be working 16 hour days - minimum. 

 

He was staring at her again when she came back on set. Her hands were shaking slightly and she quickly shoved them in her pockets, out of sight. The last thing she needed was any speculation on how she couldn’t manage her job. Well, any  _ more  _ speculation than there undoubtedly already was.

 

When the director called it - around 6 pm - she felt as though she  _ had  _ worked a 16 hour day. She just didn’t have even a fraction of the normal energy she normally had. Like some annoying catch 22 though, the prospect of trying to occupy her own time filled her with dread. 

 

She was barely out of the door when Matt caught up to her. “You walking back to the flats?”

 

She was surprised. They’d barely spoken for a week now. But the anxiety of going back by herself now that it has started getting dark won out and she nodded. 

 

They walked silently for a few moments, but she could tell there was something on his mind. He kept opening and closing his mouth, like he was having a inner battle on whether to voice his thoughts or not. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” he suddenly blurted out.

 

She frowned. “About what?”

 

“About…” he paused. “Well, ever since what I said to you last week - which wasn’t fair by the way - you haven’t really wanted me around anymore. And I get it. I was an arsehole. But I just wanted to say that, you know, I’m sorry.”

 

She closed her eyes and sighed, not quite sure whether she could actually  _ deal  _ with this right now, but not really knowing what the alternative was. “I’m not angry with you,” she replied eventually. “And I’m not… I’m not punishing you for what you said. I want to - I  _ need  _ to - rely less on other people.” She didn’t want to mention the part where she was so  _ scared  _ of hurting him, having an inkling he wouldn’t appreciate it very much.

 

He looked less than pleased anyway, shoving his hands into his pockets and starting to walk a little faster, her shorter legs struggling to keep up. “There’s nothing wrong with having some help.”

 

“I know that - I  _ know _ , but I have to figure out how this works, how I can manage it going forward. There’s… there’s a lot of things I need to figure out, and a lot of it is going to be by myself and I can’t… I need to learn how to do that.” She looked at him hopefully, her eyes pleading that he would just  _ understand. _

 

Instead he just avoided looking at her and began walking even faster. Obviously he didn’t believe her - which wasn’t that crazy as she wasn’t telling him the whole truth - and she was torn between the feeling she needed to let him be and the fear of walking by herself at night. In the end, she settled for walking a few steps behind him, occasionally jogging to keep up. 

 

After a minute or so, he looked back and sighed, stopping to let her catch up. “I’m sorry,” he said as they started walking again. She opened her mouth to protest but he quickly interrupted: “I don’t mean about that. I mean I’m sorry for not understanding better. I think maybe I’m taking it too… personally,” he shrugged, “I’m not sure. I keep feeling like I know what I need better than you do, which obviously is ludicrous.”

 

She wasn’t so sure if it was. What she  _ was  _ sure about was that he most certainly didn’t know what  _ he  _ needed. “I think what I really need right now is just - just time. Do you understand?”

 

He nodded, albeit visually reluctantly so, holding the door to their block open for her. “Just promise me one thing,” he asked just before they went their separate ways; Alex to her flat down the hall, and Matt to his. 

 

She stopped. “What?”

 

“That if you  _ do  _ need my help, or company, or if things are getting worse… even if you just feel like hanging out. That you tell me. Please?”

 

She nodded quickly. It was a lie of course. She needed him constantly, the threat of the empty flat waiting for her looming like a monster under the bed. But she  _ couldn’t.  _

 

As she walked inside, quickly turning on all the lights to make it a little less terrifying, she realised everything she’d said to him had been a lie, really. The absolute last thing she needed was time. Time was empty space to fill, no distractions from the thoughts in her head. It was nothing but endless opportunities for the terror inside to grow and grow. She  _ needed  _ him there. She really did.

 

Closing her eyes, she reminded herself of all the reasons it couldn’t be. He was getting too involved and she would drag him down with her. She couldn’t rely on him to be her only source of comfort. Some day, she would have no choice but to find that strength inside to deal with all the thoughts, the flashbacks, the panic attacks. The  _ time. _

 

But not today.

 

So yet again, she chose the routine she’d chosen for herself every night for the past week.

 

Get tin of soup.

 

Heat up soup.

 

Force it down.

 

Swallow sleeping tablets.

 

Curl up in bed, eyes tightly shut, duvet pulled up to the chin, try to avoid thinking at all until the tablets kick in and sleep takes over.

 

She had long since turned off the clock that taunted her with angry red letters, but it would have informed her it was 7.30pm and she should be up. She didn’t need anything else admonishing her.

 

*

 

As soon as he got inside he opened a beer and flung himself on the sofa, as always lost for something to do. He could have called Karen or Arthur, but honestly, he wasn’t in the mood nor did he feel like seeing their reproachful glances at his “sulking” and “making it all about him”. 

 

Yes, maybe he was being selfish. Maybe he was denying her the opportunity to learn how to get through this by wanting to always be there. Maybe he was trying to act like her crutch, and worse, making her  _ his,  _ fulfilling his need to know what was going on at every second of her life. Maybe she really was doing fine without him.

 

The thing was, no matter how much he tried to tell himself these things, he didn’t believe them. He  _ knew  _ her. He could see when the mask slipped, even for a split second. She was getting a lot better at  _ acting  _ ok, he’d give her that much. How anyone could fall for it though, after only a few weeks, he didn’t know. Perhaps it was easier to believe that someone could go through such a major trauma and recover that quickly if you really wanted to believe it. 

 

He couldn’t.

 

But some part of him knew that, no matter how much he hated it, if she didn’t want him there he  _ had  _ to respect that. Which was why he sat, night after night, drinking beer on the sofa as though he was tethered to it, knowing if he had the choice he’d be at her door in a heartbeat. 

 

He just hoped she really was telling the truth. That she needed this time by herself, to rebuild. If it really was what was best for her, his own suffering didn’t matter.

 

*

 

When Alex woke up, it was still dark outside.  _ That’s what you get for going to bed too early _ , she thought wryly to herself. Usually nightmares kept her up and, exhausted from constant waking, she’d sleep longer. But although she’d woken up with a deeply unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach, she couldn’t remember what she’d dreamt. 

 

A long shower and a cup of tea later, she dared to turn on her phone and check the time. 4 am. Well, she had an early call anyway. Now that her cast was off, they could shoot the more action filled scenes and Steven had wanted to get her into practical clothes that allowed for more movement, meaning a long appointment in wardrobe “just in case they need to make alterations”. He obviously hadn’t wanted to say it outright but she knew she’d lost weight. It wasn’t intentional, but she’d started off practically not eating for a week and she was still struggling to get anything down. It was inevitable really. 

 

Her appointment in wardrobe was about as pleasant as she’d imagined it. She hadn’t expected to feel  _ embarrassed  _ when they put her old costumes on, pinching and pulling, discussing how much they needed to be taken in, but that was exactly how she felt. When she walked out after two hours, she was already an emotional wreck and the day had barely started.

 

She managed to keep herself together throughout the morning, but she knew her facade was beginning to crack. Everything was piling up. The loneliness. The pressure. The humiliation of her body no longer fitting was the last straw, a reminder that  _ she  _ no longer fit into her own life. 

 

Like a square peg being forced through a round hole. 

 

Lunchtime came and where she’d normally force herself to eat  _ something _ , she knew today it would just be too much. Instead, she hid in her dressing room, practicing breathing exercises for about half an hour until they came to call her out again. She briefly considered one of her “panic pills” but decided against it. Her performance was already mediocre at best; there was no need to add drowsiness to it.

 

She could feel Matt’s eyes on her all afternoon, knowing even in the unlikely case that others were fooled by her act, he certainly wasn’t. In some strange, morbid way, that was almost comforting. Like her single last lifeline to reality. She supposed, in a way, that had been what made her let him in in the first place. Everything in her life seemed surreal, except for him. In some odd way, he’d been a grounding technique in all himself. Just by being. 

 

_ You have to let go of the crutch sometime,  _ she reminded herself sternly. Especially when that crutch was a person. Someone who could be hurt, and  _ would.  _ She couldn’t use him like that anymore.

 

“Ok, we’ve made good progress today,” the director announced, startling her out of her thoughts. “Slight change of schedule; we’re going to be filming scene 46 so if everyone could get ready please.”

 

Scene 46. Scene 46… she froze.

 

The kissing scene.

 

No.

 

They’d left that one until last  _ deliberately.  _ She was supposed to have time to prepare, but now they were already setting up and it was too late and Matt was giving her those concerned eyes and  _ please no.  _

 

She couldn’t do this today but she was in position and the cameras were on and what  _ choice  _ did she have? He was leaning in slowly, his breath on her face, his lips barely touching hers, as if asking permission and she relaxed, allowing him to pull her into the kiss, so very gently and carefully. It was  _ Matt  _ and this was ok, everything was going to be fine. His lips moved over hers and she started to respond, her hands moving to his shoulders, his arms wrapping around her.

 

When his tongue gently proved against her lips, something inside her shifted.

 

_ It’s Matt,  _ she reminded herself.

 

But it wasn’t.

 

It was  _ him.  _ His arms trapping her, his lips forced over hers, his body pressed up against her, towering over her and she couldn’t move. She stood, frozen, the panic building higher and higher inside her.

 

Somewhere, as if far in the distance, she heard the director call cut, expressing approval with the scene. Matt moved away from her, and she could only stare at him. It was Matt, she was almost sure of it. But her head was fuzzy and she just didn’t  _ know.  _

 

“Alex? Alex?”

 

She heard his voice but found herself unable to respond. Everything around her was blurry, shifting. Matt’s voice was talking in one ear and  _ his  _ was in the other and she wasn’t sure which one was real.

 

And then, with a gasp, she was back. Matt was looking down at her, a panicked expression on his face and suddenly, she just  _ couldn’t.  _ She was done. No more.

 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her own voice somehow unfamiliar.

 

She wasn’t sure how she got back to the flats, running entirely on adrenaline at this point, but she was there and she flung the door open, almost throwing herself inside.

 

No soup today. Desperately, she opened the bottle of sleeping pills on her bedside table. It wasn’t even dark yet, but she  _ needed  _ for everything to just go away. Only three left in the bottle. She downed them, dropping the bottle back on the table and curling up, still in costume, pulling the duvet over her head. 

 

*

 

He wasn’t sure what had happened. She’d seemed ok at first but when they’d cut something was off. It had been almost like when she’d had the flashback but not quite. She was  _ there  _ this time, she  _ saw  _ him but something wasn’t right.

 

And then she bolted. And he was scared.

 

He excused himself, jogging back towards the flats, his heart pounding uncomfortably in his chest. He couldn’t leave it. Not this time.

 

Her door was slightly open, and he knocked before entering, not wanting to startle her. No sound came in response. Walking into the bedroom, he saw an immobile shape under the covers.

 

He picked up the bottle next to the bed.  _ Take one at night,  _ the label read. It was empty.

 

_ Shit. _

 

He felt himself beginning to hyperventilate as he tore the duvet off her, trying to rouse her. As there was no reaction, he began to shake her more vigorously. 

 

She stirred slightly, her eyes opening, but unfocused, confused.

 

“Alex!” His voice was shrill, panicked. “Alex, please. Try to focus, ok?”

 

She blinked at him drowsily.

 

“Alex.” He picked the bottle up and held it in front of her. “Listen to me. How many did you take?”

 

Her brow furrowed in confusion, her eyes blinking sleepily. “Three.”

 

He released the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding and stared at the bottle. “But… it’s empty.”

 

“I know.” She closed her eyes. “I ran out. I’m sorry, I can’t...”

 

He felt his breathing begin to slow down as her head fell back onto the pillow. “Oh my god, Alex, I thought…” he stopped there, not wanting to speak his fears out loud. Instead, he laid down next to her, watching her breathing slow down as she fell asleep again, vowing that no matter what, he would  _ never  _ let that happen.


	12. Just a little while

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re going to say I shouldn’t be around, you need to handle this on your own, and all that other crap that hasn’t exactly worked great so far. Seriously, Alex, has anyone ever suggested isolating yourself as a treatment for PTSD? What school of psychology is that?”

When she woke up it was already bright outside. She felt groggy and confused as she pulled her hair out of her eyes, blinking at the clock.

 

_ Shit. _

 

The clock was turned off of course, because she  _ always  _ woke up in the middle of the night. Had three of those pills really made her sleep that long? She  _ felt  _ as though she hadn’t slept at all.

 

“ _ Shit, shit, shit,”  _ she muttered as she pulled the covers off her, realising not only that she would be late for work - that same work she’d ran out of the day before - but she’d  _ slept  _ in her costume and it was crinkled. Stopping for a moment, she buried her face in her hands, breathing in deeply to try to calm herself.

 

“Hey.”

 

With a gasp, she flew into a sitting position, her heart pounding as Matt walked into the room, carrying a breakfast tray. “What the…” she tried to catch her breath. “What the  _ hell  _ are you doing here?”

 

He frowned, setting the tray down on the bedside table and perching on the side of the bed. Almost instinctively, she scooched away, putting some distance between them. “You don’t remember?”

 

She shook her head. “Remember what?”

 

“I was here.” He paused, obviously searching for some sign of recognition. “Last night.”

 

“No.” She thought back, trying to remember. “I went straight to sleep when I got back.”

 

He looked away, a deep sigh escaping him, his eyes for some reason fixed on her bedside table. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

 

“Never mind. What’s the time?” It couldn’t be that late, or he’d be at work already.

 

He smiled, but not like she’d seen him smile before. It was strange, like there was nothing behind it. A  _ sad  _ smile. “It’s nine thirty. You’ve been asleep for fifteen hours.”

 

She felt the anxiety rise again. “Matt! We were… we were supposed to be at work, I don’t know… hours ago probably, we need to…”

 

“Stop.” His voice was tired, but forceful. “I’ve told Stephen you’re not coming in for a few days.”

 

She opened her mouth to protest, but he immediately cut her off.

 

“No argument, Alex. Honestly, I think he would have made the decision if I didn’t.”

 

“I’m fine,” she insisted, though the traitorous trembling in her voice may have been giving her away. “It was a  _ kissing  _ scene Matt, and it was sprung on me, I know I acted unprofessionally, but it was really quite a unique situation.”

 

“You need to give yourself a break.” His voice was softer now. “Yes, the kissing was probably the last straw, I’ll give you that, but you’re constantly fighting to only…” he threw his arms out with a frustrated huff, “I don’t know, to only ever have one straw left?”

 

She looked down, unable to argue against his accusation but yet… “Time off is  _ harder, _ ” she finally admitted in a small voice.

 

His muscles tensed up slightly; barely noticeably so hadn’t she been so hyper aware of him “I made you a doctors appointment this morning. You’re out of those,” he nodded towards the bottle on the bedside table. “Might want to think of how to explain why a month’s worth barely lasted you two weeks though.”

 

Her breath hitched. “I…” she wasn’t sure whether to be angry with him or not. Some part of her wanted to be, he had no  _ business  _ going around accusing her. But on the other hand, she was too  _ tired, _ too wrung out to be righteous. “One is the standard, two is maximum,” she explained dully, her eyelids feeling so heavy she just wanted to crawl back under the covers and sleep forever.  _ I guess that’s why two’s the maximum,  _ she mused briefly.

 

He finally looked at her, a slight hint of regret flashing across his features. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… it was just last night, I… I thought…” he trailed off, shaking his head.

 

“What?”

 

“It doesn’t matter.” He - quite obviously - forced a smile on his face. “I was worried, that’s all. I’m worried that what you said about needing time, that… it was true, wasn’t it?”

 

He looked like a begging puppy, and she  _ couldn’t.  _ “I don’t know. Sort of? I probably do but…” she shook her head. “Doesn’t always work out so great. Everyone keeps saying that’s what I need but they don’t tell me what to do with it.” She laughed with no humour in her voice. 

 

He picked up the tray and placed it in front of her. “Well, I can help with that. Eat this, then I’m taking you to the doctor.”

 

She looked down. Tea, which was good; she definitely needed it this morning. The sight of the toast lathered with jam made her stomach turn though. This early in the day - or what her body felt was early anyway - she found it difficult to eat anything except maybe a yogurt. Still, he’d gone to all this effort; the least she could do was  _ try.  _ Tea first though. She picked up the cup and sighed in pleasure as the soothing liquid hit the back of her throat. After nearly all the tea was gone she made an attempt at the toast. Almost immediately, she felt a wave of nausea hit her and her throat clamped up.

 

She chewed reluctantly, the piece of toast seemingly growing in her mouth, dryer and dryer. She had to try four times before she could eventually swallow it. She had about half a slice before giving up, her stomach protesting each bite. “It’s a bit early,” she tried feebly to explain, but to her relief he just nodded and finished the rest of the toast himself, leaving her to the last of her tea. Liquids, at least, went down easily. 

 

“Right,” he said once the last drop was drunk. “Get dressed and we’ll head to the doctors.” He had to have seen the panic in her eyes because he quickly added “I’m not coming  _ in  _ with you, I’m just walking you there.”

 

She should have protested, she really should. Suddenly he had launched back into her life, making her breakfast, taking her to appointments, and she had not  _ agreed  _ to this. There was a reason she’d shut him out, as she kept reminding herself, and that reason was as valid as ever. She should have kicked him out.

 

But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. There was safety, comfort in letting someone look after her - secretly, even she couldn’t argue she didn’t need it - and she was  _ selfish.  _ She couldn’t help it, but she was. So she let him. She let him take her to the doctor, and back again, allowed him to walk back into her flat like he owned the place, to rummage through the cupboards where only tins of soup could be found -  _ Cream of tomato Alex, really?  _ \- and pushed,  _ forced _ , the sensible voice screaming at her to just  _ stop  _ right to the back of her head.

 

There was something nervous, skittish about him. Every so often, she’d catch him staring at her like he couldn’t believe she was really there and he seemed reluctant to let her get more than a few feet away from him or out of his line of sight. Like she was going to disappear at any moment.

 

She hated herself for the fact this was something  _ she’d  _ done to him. Whether by rejecting him or letting him in in the first place - it didn’t really matter. She’d made him feel this way and that hurt.  _ This is why you should never have let him get involved,  _ she chastised herself. 

 

So later when, after leaving for no more than 20 minutes, he’d returned with a bag full of protein shake powder because he thought it’d be easier for her to keep fed that way, she forced him to sit down. Her heart was beating uncontrollably and her throat felt like it was closing up altogether, but she had to do this. “Matt, I…”

 

“No, don’t!”

 

She looked up at him in shock. He’d been so quiet and gentle recently that the sharp tones he was using seemed almost alien. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

 

He stood up. “Of course I do. You’re going to say I shouldn’t be around, you need to handle this on your own, and all that other crap that hasn’t exactly worked great so far. Seriously, Alex, has anyone  _ ever  _ suggested isolating yourself as a treatment for PTSD? What school of psychology is that?”

 

She couldn’t look at him, her eyes burning. Blinking furiously, she tried to steel herself. She couldn’t cry. Not now. “It’s not just about me,” she replied, her voice only shaking slightly.

 

He stopped, staring at her incredulously as his arms fell limp by his sides. “What?”

 

“I said it’s not just about me.”

 

He huffed loudly. “I  _ heard  _ you.”

 

A stray, traitorous tear escaped, slowly rolling down her cheek and she suddenly felt  _ so  _ tired. “I can’t do this to you anymore,” she whispered.

 

Within a split second, he was kneeling by her side, concern and anguish overwriting the anger on his face. “Alex, I don’t…” stroking a curl behind her ear, he shook his head. “What on earth do you mean?”

 

She sniffed, wiping her cheek with the back of her sleeve, breathing deeply to try and prevent any more inappropriate crying. “I mean…” She tried to gather her thoughts, voice what she had already told herself countless times, but her head was  _ so  _ foggy and she felt the panic rising in her chest. 

 

_ Why? _

 

She looked up at Matt, hoping seeing his face would help her remember, but when she lifted her gaze, he was no longer there. With a frown she turned around, scanning the suddenly dark room. Behind her, with his back against the wall,  _ he  _ stood, staring at her with hungry eyes.

 

She screamed, trying to throw herself backwards but she  _ couldn’t.  _ Looking down at her wrists, she saw that they were tied with rope to the bed she was sitting on.

 

No, there was supposed to be a sofa there, not a bed. How could that bed be here?

 

How could  _ he  _ be here?

 

He didn’t move, just continuing to stare at her, his gaze moving up and down her body. She couldn’t take her eyes off him either, trying to will him away with her mind. 

 

“Alex!” He suddenly shouted at her and she flinched. 

 

He had never, ever used her name before. 

 

“No,” she whispered. “You can’t be here.”

 

“Alex!” He started coming closer and she found herself recoiling, curling up and making herself as small as possible. “Alex!”

 

She hid her face, sobbing uncontrollably. He was coming. She couldn’t escape. He kept  _ shouting  _ her name, over and over.

 

“Alex!” 

 

The sound was so close, he was right up near her face, and she couldn’t stop herself from lifting her head. “Matt?” Panicked, she looked around her.  _ He  _ was gone. “I need to…” She looked down at her wrists, pulling at the binds before realising there weren’t any, and she was back on her living room sofa. “I…” She closed her eyes again, trying to calm her racing heart.

 

“Alex, what happened?” There was panic in his voice.

 

She looked up again, seeing that same panic written all over his face. This would be the perfect time, she knew, to  _ explain  _ to him just why he couldn’t be around her, but she was so tired she didn’t think she could even form a sentence. The panic was subsiding slowly, the adrenaline leaving her veins and giving way to exhaustion. She tried to respond, but all that came out was a whimper as she collapsed onto the sofa, breathing heavily.

 

“It’s ok,” she heard him whisper. “It’s all gonna be ok.”

 

It was funny, she thought fleetingly to herself, how everyone always said that when they really had no idea if it would be or not. It was, she supposed, just a phrase to make someone feel better in the moment. Empty words. Still comforting, somehow, perhaps just to know that someone was there to say them. Even when they shouldn’t be.

 

But she couldn’t fight him, not now. So when she felt his arms slide around her, lifting her to his chest, all she did was curl her fingers into his shirt, letting him carry her to bed and tuck her in. In a move that surprised even herself, she gripped tighter onto his shirt when he tried to pull away, somehow unwilling to lose that contact.

 

“Ok,” he whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.” She still wasn’t letting go, and he carefully laid himself down next to her, shushing her as one might a small child.

 

It didn’t even feel condescending in the slightest. 

 

She let herself think for a moment that maybe he  _ could  _ stick around. Just for a little while, not long enough to get too wound up in her issues again. Maybe with some boundaries, it could work because as long as she was nestled up beside him, her heart didn’t beat quite as fast and the nightmares felt just a little further away. 

 

It wasn’t true, not really, but she could pretend like it was. Just for a little while.

  
  



	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you remember that first episode we did together?”
> 
> “Hm,” she nodded. “You were terrified.”
> 
> He laughed. “I really was. And do you remember how you were trying to calm me and Karen down all day, bringing us tea and snacks from craft services, and after shooting you spent hours going through the script with us and talking us out of quitting on the spot? We must have been up until well past midnight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eep, I haven’t updated in over two months! Sorry!

If she wasn’t working, no one was working, and as uncomfortable as the thought made her, at least she was never really alone. If it wasn’t Karen asking for fashion advice - from  _ her, really? -  _ while trying on every article of clothing in her wardrobe, it was Arthur making tea and wanting to discuss Shakespeare, or sometimes a combination of both which was an endlessly amusing contrast.

 

And then there was Matt, ever-presently hovering around her as though she was made of glass and could shatter at any moment. Sometimes she caught him staring - a wistful look of almost-terror in his eyes. She couldn’t decide if it made her feel safe or very uncomfortable. 

 

On the first day he’d pushed himself back into her life he’d been almost forcefully confident, cheerful but firm with his intentions that she would  _ not  _ be pushing him away. She’d noticed a change in him though, in the couple of days that followed. He was jumpy, even more clumsy than usual, like he wasn’t really paying attention. Whenever she left a room, she found that on her return, he visibly relaxed, like he’d been holding his breath the whole time. No one else had said anything, but perhaps she’d noticed the tiny signs only because he was almost mirroring  _ her  _ behaviour.

 

It meant she’d been right. And as much as she didn’t want to, it was a conversation they  _ had  _ to have.

 

“Matt,” she sighed as he returned to her living room that evening, having picked up a pizza which he was now precariously balancing on one arm while trying to stuff coins back into his wallet.

 

He sat down, opening the box and leaning back onto the sofa cushions. “Yeah?” 

 

She closed her eyes, trying to mentally prepare herself for what would undoubtedly become an argument. “I know we’ve had this discussion before, but…”

 

“I can’t Alex,” he cut her off. “I know what you’re going to say but I  _ can’t. _ ”

 

Her eyes popped open in surprise. She hadn’t expected this, the almost  _ pleading  _ tone of voice. “I’m worried about you.”

 

He frowned. “Me?”

 

“Yes. I’ve seen…” she sighed. “I don’t think anyone else has noticed. Maybe you haven’t even noticed. But this isn’t good for you. You’re skittish, jumpy, you’re looking at me like… like you’re terrified all the time, and I  _ do  _ see it, Matt. I can’t help but think that this is all too much. Dealing with someone else’s issues all the time, it’s not easy, and I don’t blame you, but you need to look after yourself as well.”

 

He ran his fingers through his hair, letting out a deep sigh. “I know. Alex, I know what you mean but it’s not what you think.”

 

She frowned, cocking her head at him, waiting for an explanation.

 

“I know you think that this… the way I’m behaving, that it’s because I’m too exposed, right?”

 

She nodded.

 

“The thing is, it’s not that.” He let out a tiny huff of air as he shook his head. “It’s stupid.”

 

“What is it?”

 

He squirmed, clearly avoiding eye contact at all cost. “You know a couple of days ago I was in your flat when you woke up and you didn’t remember me getting there?”

 

She nodded again.

 

“I know. And I’m sorry for walking into your flat like that, I really am, but you seemed so upset when you ran off set, and I just  _ had  _ to check on you.”

 

“I said it was all right,” she protested.

 

He sighed. “So the thing is, you were sleeping when I got here. And there was that pill bottle on the bedside table, but it was empty and I…” he stopped, like he couldn’t get the words out. “I panicked. Like, a  _ lot.  _ I thought that you had… maybe taken more of them than you actually had.”

 

She couldn’t help a sharp intake of breath as the meaning of his words hit her. “You thought I’d tried to kill myself.”

 

He tensed up noticeably. “I thought that, maybe, I don’t know, you might have… Yeah. Yeah, I did,” he finally admitted, slumping slightly.

 

“And that’s why you’re… like this?” She couldn’t believe how calm she actually was, but maybe focusing on someone else was somehow allowing her to keep it together.

 

“Yeah. I keep remembering how scared I was, how it felt like… like my whole  _ world  _ had fallen apart and I just never want to feel like that again. It’s stupid, I know.” His gaze focused on his hands which were tightly wound together in his lap, he shrugged helplessly.

 

“It’s not stupid.” The thoughts were racing in her head. Had he actually believed that? And that’s why he was watching her every second, in fear that she’d try something? “But Matt, I didn’t. I  _ wouldn’t. _ ”

 

“I know that, in here,” he tapped his head. “I  _ do  _ know. And I don’t know why, but it doesn’t stop the fear, no matter how much I try to rationalise it. I guess I’ve just… I’ve never felt that scared, that… broken, in my life. I’m sorry,” he shook his head. “This probably isn’t helping. It’s not that I actually think you  _ would,  _ but I… I can’t let go of it.”

 

She paused for a minute, letting this new information sink in. “I  _ know  _ that he… that he can’t hurt me anymore, that there is no physical way for him to get to me. But it doesn’t stop me feeling like he might be behind me at any given moment, that he’s just going to walk into the room. I completely freaked out over  _ ropes,  _ Matt.” She laughed sadly, shaking her head. “I really don’t think you need to apologise.”

 

He spluttered disbelievingly, looking up at her for the first time since he’d sat down. “That’s… that’s not the same at all! You… you went through  _ hell _ !” He flailed with his arms, as if trying to communicate just how huge that was. “And I… I thought something that was scary but ultimately not true for a few seconds. How can you compare two things like that?”

 

She shrugged, sinking back a little, tugging her sleeves over her hands. “I don’t know,” she replied quietly. “You can’t. But why even compare? If this is something you’re struggling with, then…”

 

He reached over and placed a hand on her arm. She thought it was meant to be soothing but somehow it just felt uncomfortable. “Hey. It’s not that bad, really. I had a bit of a shock but it’s only been a couple of days. I’ll be fine.”

 

She bit her lip, uncertain. There was no way she could shake this feeling that she was hurting him but… she had so many feelings that she  _ knew  _ weren’t true. The feeling that every stranger she passed might try to grab her. The feeling that someone who was in prison would suddenly turn up in her locked flat. That crowded rooms were endlessly dangerous. That anyone touching her in any way - except for Matt, apparently - meant they were about to hurt her.

 

How could she trust what she thought and felt at  _ all? _

 

“Did you really…” her voice was quiet, surprising even herself. “I mean, you already said. You thought I’d done… that. Is that something you’ve ever suspected before?”

 

He closed his eyes and slowly let out a deep breath. “I hadn’t really thought about it. The doctors seemed to think you wouldn’t do anything so it wasn’t something on my radar, not really. It’s only because that scare… it’s on my mind now, I guess.” He shrugged, leaning forward to grab a slice of pizza.

 

“Maybe you should get some therapy too.” She was surprised even by her own suggestion, and apparently so was he as he abruptly stopped chewing and stared at her, a string of cheese hanging out of his mouth.

 

“What?  _ Me?” _

 

She shrugged. “I mean, given how much I complain about it it might seem like a weird idea. But it could help.”

 

“Alex,” he hesitated slightly. “I get where you’re coming from, I do. But I think you’re doing that thing you always do, where you worry about everyone else and forget about yourself.” He paused. “Do you remember that first episode we did together?”

 

“Hm,” she nodded. “You were terrified.”

 

He laughed. “I really was. And do you remember how you were trying to calm me and Karen down all day, bringing us tea and snacks from craft services, and after shooting you spent  _ hours  _ going through the script with us and talking us out of quitting on the spot? We must have been up until well past midnight.”

 

“Yeah, I do.” She couldn’t help but smile at the memory. It wasn’t that long ago, and yet they’d seemed so  _ young,  _ like children almost. 

 

“And then,” he shook his head with a grin, “when Karen says you look tired,  _ then  _ you mention, as if it’s not even a big deal, that you’d just flown in on the red-eye that morning and hadn’t slept for practically two full days.”

 

“More like one and a half,” she protested. “And I couldn’t just  _ leave  _ you. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if you’d still be there the next morning.”

 

“Neither was I actually.” He ran his hand through his hair, causing it to flop adorably -  _ adorably?  _ \- into his eyes. “And it was nice, you know? You really took care of us, probably at the detriment to your own health on more than one occasion.” He paused, sighing as he looked down at his hands, avoiding her gaze. “But you can’t do that now. Alex, please. I know it’s probably… instinct more than anything at this point, but I  _ need  _ you not to worry about anything but yourself. Not my jumpiness, or production hold-ups, or… or Karen’s fashion issues. Actually, the last one’s all right, I’ll give you that one.”

 

She couldn’t help but smile. “It’s… distracting I guess.”

 

“What part?”

 

“I don’t know. All of it.” She sighed. “In good and bad ways.”

 

“Hm,” he nodded. “I’m all for the good ways. But, you know, sometimes I think you worry about all these things to avoid… well, what you don’t  _ want  _ to worry about. Which I get, I do. And I’m happy to be distracting,” he waggled his eyebrows, making her laugh. “But not in the bad ways, ok? Not where you’re actually  _ adding  _ to your worry. And you might be right. Maybe I should see a therapist, but I don’t want  _ you  _ to think about it, ok?”

 

After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded. Maybe he had a point. Maybe part of why she noticed these little signs that no one else seemed to was because some small part of her  _ wanted  _ to.

 

To be proven right? 

 

Or just to have someone else to worry about because facing her own situation was so  _ terrifying? _

 

She swallowed, yet again doubting her ability to trust what her own senses told her. Because though she was sure about the signs she’d seen in him, she suddenly couldn’t tell if her own mind had exaggerated them; turned something trivial into a huge problem just so she could, for a little bit longer, avoid thinking of her own situation.

 

“Alex?” He looked concerned, his hand half-reaching out towards her.

 

She shook her head in an attempt to snap out of it, sniffing loudly, suddenly feeling very tearful. “Sorry.” She wiped her face with the back of her sleeve. “Sorry, I think… just maybe that you’re right. And I wasn’t expecting that.”

 

He sighed. “Come here.”

 

Hesitantly, she shuffled over, resting her head against his chest, letting his arms loosely curl around her. Closing her eyes, she breathed in and out slowly, listening to the sound of his heart beating steadily in her ear. “Thanks for telling me,” she whispered eventually.

 

“Hm?”

 

“You know, why you’ve been so nervous. I know you probably didn’t want to tell me, but I’m glad you did.” She opened her eyes again, shifting to make herself more comfortable against his chest. “At least I understand now.”

 

“I just don’t want you to worry about me. Or anyone else,” he replied quietly.

 

“I know. But I was.  _ Am.  _ And… I still think knowing  _ why,  _ it… it’s context. It makes more sense. I’m sure it’s not easy for you either.” She sighed. “The worrying.”

 

“It’s… it is what it is.” He shifted slightly, making himself more comfortable. “But it would help if you’d let me do the worrying.”

 

She couldn’t help but smile at that. “But what if I worry about you worrying?”

 

He chuckled. “Then I’ll worry more about you worrying about me worrying.”

 

“And I think that’s what they call a vicious cycle,” she joked, shaking her head slightly against him. “Ok then. I will try.”

 

He didn’t answer, but she could feel his body relax, as though he’d just let go of something heavy he’d been carrying. In a way, perhaps he had. And oddly, to some extent, she felt a similar relief herself.

 

She’d never been one to let others worry for her. No, she’d always been the mothering one, with her sisters as a child, her friends, even husbands. It had never been a problem as such; it made her feel needed and people had always  _ needed  _ her. But now… well, he had a point. If there was ever a time to let someone else worry, this was it.

 

And for the first time, she considered that she might actually let him.

 

“Hey,” he whispered after a while. “Bedtime?” 

 

She sighed, nodding. At his insistence, she’d been trying to stick to only one sleeping pill. It still worked, but didn’t knock her out in quite the same way, which meant the thoughts still came in the dark, not to mention the nightmares seemed to be worse. She was always exhausted in the mornings; emotionally wrung out.

 

He seemed to sense her hesitation as she slowly got ready, and to her surprise she didn’t brush him off.

 

“It’s difficult at night,” she admitted, worrying her lip between her teeth. “I have these dreams that keep waking me up, and…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “Never mind, it it doesn’t matter. It’s not like you can…”

 

“I could stay with you?” He suggested tentatively. “I mean, on the floor or something. If you don’t want to, I understand. I was just thinking, you know, at least if it happens, you wouldn’t be alone.”

 

“Ok.” His eyes widened in surprise, and frankly she was pretty surprised herself. “Um, the spare room has a single, I guess we could move it? I mean, if you’re sure. You don’t have to, I could, um…”

 

“Of course I’m sure.” He smiled. “You go to bed, I’ll sort it.”

 

It was almost like relinquishing control in some way, she mused later as she watched him on the bed, awkwardly stuffed into the corner of the room. It wasn’t as easy lesson to learn, especially at a time when she was so desperate to control  _ everything.  _ It required a great deal of trust, and the fact that she  _ had  _ that trust, for him… well, she wasn’t sure what to think about that.


End file.
